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AuTHoa or "Ix Hn Smps," no. 

Nrw York Cbicaoo Vokomto 

Fleminr H. Revell Company 



c~ r- 

Copyright, 19<W, by 

/- -/- y- ^ 

New York x 158 Fifth ATenue 
Chicago I 80-89 Wabash Avenue 
Toronto x 27 Richmond Street, W. 
London i il Paternoster Squara 
Edinburgh I 100 Princet Street 



I. H« SicuT ij 

III Thi DiscLotcu , gg 

III. CoMtADEIHIP > 1,0V* 84 

IV. Thi« Oww Worn ExiMiE is 


VI. A PiiVATE Memaoi 7a 

VII. A PcBuc McUAOE 89 


IZ. The F»ciTt of the Stitem lOi 

X. To BE Skipped bt the THocoRTtEu Riaoek . . .113 

XI. The PaooBAMME or Socialum 196 

XII. Stony Gbocno . 144 

XIII. The Wobk op the " Octopus " 150 

XIV. A Te«i akd a New Factob 163 

XV. A Pbbsoxal Ekcovkter 179 

XVI. The Mibacu! 179 

XVK. Battukg fob a Son. 191 

XVIII. The New Mak 901 

XIX. His Cbou 919 

XX. The Pabtiko of the Wats 99i 

XXI. Habvet akd the " New Man " 236 

XXII. WoEKiNO Oct Salvation 948 

XXIII. Husband and Wife 866 

XXIV. Lovi CoNQUEBS All 961 



Pastor of the Saint Cecilia Metropolitan 
Church, slowly took up his pen and wrote finis 
on the last page of a book manuscript. He then 
pushed his chair awaj from his desk and leaned back 
for a little in silence. 

The clock in the church tower struck twelve. When 
the last stroke had sounded, the minister rose, walked 
to the window of his study, which overlooked the 
small strip of lawn beside the church wall, and stood 
there a moment. 

Returning to his desk he kneeled in front of It, 
putting his face on the manuscript as he kneeled; 
when he raised his head his face was wet with tears 
and his lips still moved in an inaudible prayer. 

The Rev. Fredrick Stanton was not yet fifty years 
old, and unmarried. He was handsome, intellec- 
tual, and lovable. There was no reason that could 
be given by any one in the parish of Saint Cecilia why 
the brilliant preacher of the most aristocratic church 
in Lenox did not marry one of the fair and rich mem- 


bers of his splendidly dressed congregation. But the 
fact remained that he did not, and no one had ever 
dared to ask him for the reason. 

Two other qualities which made the Rev. Fredrick 
Stanton popular and esteemed were his unquestioned 
affection for little children, and a habit of sadness 
which gave, not a mournful, but interesting cast to 
features which were classical in repose and intensely 
modern in action. 

The book which he had just finished was his first 
effort. Whether it be his best or not, an author's first 
book is an event which brings a particular and peculiar 
emotion to the heart and mind. He never has the 
same feeling for another effort. The minister looked 
at the last page of this manuscript with an affection- 
ate regard. The experience was new to him. The 
moment was, however, significant for other reasons. 

He was about to send his book out to a publisher 
under an assumed name. The volume represented to 
him the best ten years of his life. It represented more 
than that. It stood for his heart's faith, for the real 
conviction which, during the ten years of its construc- 
tion, had risen in him into a tremendous passion that 
not a man or woman in all his parish dreamed of. To 
send the book out and withhold its real authorship 
was crucifixion to him. Yet, as he walked back and 
forth, he was not at any time in doubt concerning Ihe 
matter — he knew what he was purposing to do and he 
knew just how he would act. 

He had not yet given the manuscript a title. With 



a deliberate but not a hesitating gesture, he now turned 
over to the first cliapter which lay on the desk, and 
wrote across the upper part of the first page the 
following : 


After another moment of silent contemplation of the 
manuscript, he wrote the following letter to the largest 
pubhshing house in the United States : 

Dear Sirs: 

I send you by express, book manuscript entitled 

" THE christian SOCIALIST." 

Lenox, June 1, 1896. 

Very truly yours, 

Mark Burns. 

He ran through the chapters, making a few 
slight changes. His handwriting was beautifully 
clear and strong, and the pages were, even to his own 
eyes, pleasant to look at. He then placed the chapters 
together again, put his letter on top of the first chap- 
ter, wrapped up the manuscript and directed it. The 
church clock struck the hour of one as he finished. 
The night was quiet. The Rev. Fredrick Stanton 
walked over to the window again and looked out. 
Then he came back to the desk, turned out his light 
and kneeled at his chair for a long time. If any 
one had been in the room during that time he would 
have been astonished to hear from the brilliant, digni- 



fied scholarly pastor of Saint Cecilia, a prajer fuD of 
broken cries, appeals for pardon, confession for griev- 
OU8 fault, and promises of making full restitution. 
And he would also have been no less amazed after the 
prayer ceased to behold the minister rise, with hag- 
gard face and apparently unsatisfied heart, and seat 
himself at his desk once more, resting his head upon it 
unti dawn came in, to find him still there, the 
habitual sadness of his features marked by an added 
sternness of line as the morning looked in upon his 
unrefreshed spirit. 

.Jf^* J^^^^day the manuscript was sent on to the 
great publishing house. Three days later a printed 
form came back stating that the book had been re- 
ceived, and would be examined in due time. Then 
wo months of silence. The Rev. Fredrick from time 
to time employed on the beautiful grounds surround- 
ing the manse two, and sometimes three, men « Mark 
Bums," whose address was the street number of th 
manse, might have been one of the men. 

When the minister opened the next letter to « Mark 
Burns '' he was alone in the manse seated in his study. 
He had been out calling that afternoon in his parish. 
His last call was at the beautiful residence of Judge 
Rodney. Mrs Rodney and her daughter, Miss MH- 
dred, were at home, and the conversation had at last 
turned upon the great strike threatened by the miU 
operatives in South Lenox. 

"The men don't know what is good for them," Mrs. 
Rodney spoke sharply. Mrs. Rodney was a large and 


handsomely gowned woman, who wore several dia- 
mond rings and had limitless confidence in her own 
opinions of politics, business and the church. 

Her daughter Mildred was not quite so positive as 
her mother, but she was a young woman with strong 
convictions and a natural leaning to the favored 
classes of society, and especially those classes that as- 
sembled within the strictly proper social atmosphere 
of the church of Saint Cecilia. 

"Of course," Mrs. Rodney continued, "I don't 
object to fair wages for the working people. But it is 
simply preposterous that they should demand so much. 
The recent disturbances in the labor world are due to 
envy of the upper classes. The mill operatives are 
becoming unbearable. They are no longer satisfied 
with comfortable homes. They begin to cry out for 

"Do you think mill operatives ought not to have 
any luxuries, mother?" asked Miss Mildred, looking 
first at her mother then at the Rev. Fredrick. When 
Miss Rodney spoke like that, the minister always gave 
her an inquiring glance, as if in doubt over something 

Mrs. Rodney waved her jeweled hand gracefully. 

"Of course they are entitled to what they need. 
But where will their demands cease? Give them what 
they ask now, and in a year or two they will come 
back after more. I say it is getting to be preposter- 
ous. The working people are demanding as much 
as " 


"As we do," suggested the Rev. Fredrick, with a 
faint smile, speaking to the mother but looking at the 

" Of course tliere must always be classes in society," 
Mrs. Rodney continued. "The governing classes 
need certain things in the way of luxuries to minister 
to their state of development. The lower classes can 
and should be contented with less. I have always 
noticed, for instance, that when one of my maids 
begins to get ambitious for better clothes, for finer 
wall paper on her room, she begins to grow slack with 
her work, and invariably I have to dismiss her. The 
working people should be taught to keep their place. 
That is the reason I say this strike is unwarranted; 
and I agree with Judge Rodney, that the working 
people are their o';ti worst enemies when they attempt 
to claim mo-'- than they are capable of assimilating." 
" Mother subscribed for The Ladies Repository for 
our last cook," Miss Mildred spoke, looking out of an 
amused pair of gray eyes at the minister; " and what 
do you think the result was? " 

" I have no idea," replied the Rev. Fredrick cau- 

" The cook came tc mother one day and wanted to 
know who her dressmi:ke^ was." 

" I should call that a compliment to your mother," 
replied the Rev. Fredrick, without the hint of a smile 
on his expressive face. 

" It was the height of insolence on the cook's part," 
Mrs. Rodney said, a little stiffly. «It was another 



instance, and I have never known one to fail, of the 
mistake made when we attempt to elevate or encourage 
the working people. It makes them envious and dis- 
satisfied. Let them know their place and keep it." 

There was a little more talk along the same line, and 
the minister had at last come away after having lis- 
tened more than he had talked, and bringing away 
with him, as he always did after meeting Miss Mildred 
Rodney, a very large interrogation mark in his mind 
concerning her real attitude toward life in general 
and his own life in particular. 

Back in his study he found his maU on the desk 
where his housekeeper had laid it, and he noticed first 
the letter directed to " Mark Bums." 

He opened it at once, and read with growing excite- 
ment the following' : 

Me. Mahk Buens, Lenox: 

Dear Sir~l am happy to state in behalf of the 
house, that your manuscript, The Christian Socialist, 
has been approved by our readers, and we shall be 
pleased to publish the book at the usual terras of ten 
I^r cent, royalty. We shall be glad to hear from you 
at your earliest convenience in regard to the matter, 
and -f you accept our conditions for publication, shall 
also be pleased to have your sugges-ons as to cover 
design or illustrations. 

Very cordially yours, 

C. B. M., for the firm — 

New York. 


In his reply to this note, the Rev. Fredrck Stanton 
wrote, accepting the terms made by the publishers, and 
enclosed a sketch of a cover design, leaving the matter 
of possible illustrations with the house. There was a 
glow of unusual pleasure in the thought that his book 
had been accepted by the firm. The only trace of dis- 
appomtment felt at the time was a vague and unde- 
fined wonder at the .ibsence of any criticism of the 
manuscript one way or the other. But he reflected as 
he penned his reply that it was a purely business 
transaction, and the editor could not be expected to 
make extended remarks of approval on the host of 
manuscripts received and accepted. 

There foUowed now for several weeks the receipt 
and correction of proof-sheets of the book, and early 
m the fall of that year the book itself came out, and 
on- of the keenest delights of his whole life was ex- 
perienced by him one day in October, when he received 
from the publishers half a dozen complimentary copies 
of his first published volume. 

^ The cover design was a striking emblem represent- 
ing a gigantic hand squeezing the world, which was 
pictured as an orange from which ran drops of blood, 
which a closer examination revealed to the reader to 
be hearts, with despairing human faces on them, 
mostly of little children. The artist had put the 
design in colors of red and white. The vivid appear- 
ance of It as the book lay on his desk startled the Rev 
Fredrick Stanton, and at first he questioned its good 
taste so strongly that he was tempted to ^vrite a letter 



'V >"•* _ 







to the publisher, asking that if any further editions 
should be printed to have the design discontinued and 
the book issued in plain covers. 

But, after thinking it over, he decided to wait and 
let the public judge of the matter, if, indeed, the pub- 
lic, in the shape of that uncertain quantity the " kind 
reader," should care enough about the book to look at 
the outside of it, to say nothing of actually buying 
and perusing it. 

Within the next two months the Rev. Fredrick re- 
ceived from the New York publishers several news- 
paper book reviews of The Christian Socialist. They 
sounded to him suspiciously like advertisements sent 
out by the publisher, and although he was unfamiliar 
with such matters; he afterwards lear^ied that his sus- 
picions were correct. The book seemed destined to be 
unnoticed, unhonored and unread by the public, how- 
ever, spite of the publisher's glowing reviews, and as 
the holidays drew near, the Rev. Fredrick Stanton 
buried his first-born in what he thought was an unres- 
urrected state. 

What was his intense surprise, therefore, to receive, 
a week before Christmas, a congratulatory letter from 
the publishers, which ran something like this : 

" We are happy to state that the sale of The Chris- 
tian Socialist has gone into the third edition, and the 
demand is daily increasing." 

This was, as stated, a week before Christmas. Dur- 
ing the next three weeks the papers began to call 
attention to the new and startling story called The 


Christian Socialitt. Magazines wrote long liti rary 
reviews of it. Religious journals bitterly, and in 
most cases savagely, criticised it. People talked 
about the book at social gatherings. They discussed 
it at religious conventions, they read it on the cars, 
they took jides for and against its teachings, and on 
all sides asked concerning its authorship. 

Even the conventional parish of Saint Cecilia 
caught the contagion of the public mania for The 
Chmtian Socialist. It actually read the book 
through, and even went so far as to discuss it. On 
nearly every library table in the elegant homes of his 
rich parishioners, the Rev. Fredrick Stanton grew 
daily accustomed to the familiar design of the gigantic 
hand and the blood-red orange world. 

There was practically only one opinion in the 
parish of Saint Cecilia concerning The Christian 
Socialist, and it was voiced emphatically by Mrs. Rod- 
ney one afte' oon in the latter part of February, 
while the pastor of Saint Cecilia was making a parish 

" The most dangerous book ever written ! " Mrs. 
Rodney declared, tapping the volume decisively with 
the tips of her jeweled fingers. " It will, to my mind, 
go far towards inflaming the public mind to deeds 
of violence. I should not be surprised if this book 
led to a bloody revolution. I actually saw a copy of 
it in the hands of one of the strikers this afternoon, 
as I was coming back from South Lenox in the 
trolley. He was discussing it in a very excited man- 

.•'■ii» ijrt ^ 




ner with another man beside him. The a ithor is 
evident " 

At that moment Judge Rodney came into the draw- 
ing-room. AH the parlors in the parish of Saint 
Cecilia were "drawing-rooms." 

He greeted the minister co ^.ully and looked inquir- 
ingly at his wife. 

"I was just saying," Mrs. Rodney continued, 
'* that this book is the most dangerous book ever pub- 
lished, and, in my opinion, it will inflame the public 
mind to deeds of violence." 

"Oh! The Christian Socialist," Judge Rodney 
exclp *med, with an air of Interest. *' A remarkable 
book, Mr. Stanton. But I agree with Mrs. Rodney 
— most dmgerous. It attacks the foundations of 
soci'ity. Of course you have read the book. What 
do you think of it } " 

" We have been looking for a sermon on the book," 
Mildred interrupted. "Nearly every other minister 
in Lenox has preached on it." 

"You know I seldom preach book reviews," said 
the minister with a smile, and at that moment Judge 
Rodney was called out of the room by a messenger, 
and the Rev. Fredrick did not answer his question. 
Mrs. Rodney, however, repeated it. 

" What do you think of the book. Dr. Stanton? " 

"I am not a very good judge of such books, Mrs. 
Rodney, and do not know that I am capable of giving 
an opinion." 

"You are too modest," Mrs. Rodney replied, a 


trifle iharplj. If there was one unpardonable sin to 
her it was the sin of not having positive opinions. 
"At heart you will agree with Judge Rodney and me 
that the book is dangerous in the extreme." She 
took the minister's silence for consent, and added, 
" If I were the Russian government in this country 
I would suppress this book by law." 

" An 1 you would get it read by more people 
than are reading it now," said Miss Mildred 

"Oh, as to that, I differ. To my mind the only 
y^ -y to deal with heresy is to stamp it out with a 
strong hand." 

Mrs. Rodney mixed her metaphors as a toper would 
mix a drink, for her own sake alone and regardless of 
any one else's tastes. After expressing herself thus 
she suddenly excused herself to answer some call from 
a servant, leaving the minister and Miss Mildred 
alone together.. It was not the first time, and the 
Rev. Fredrick did not seem to be disturbed over it. 

" What do you think of The Christian Socialist, 
Dr. Stanton?" Miss Mildred asked, as her mother 
went out of the room. 

" Is my opi/iion worth anything.'' " 

"In this case, yes." 

**I think the story is interesting." 

"That is lot an opinion." 

"What is it?" 

" Merely a statement." 

"What do you want me to say?' 





t * 

" What you believe, of course." 

" Does it make any (liffcrencc whether I answer o- 

"It is for you to jud-.," Miss Mildred answered; 
but there was n Hash in her eyes that the Rev. Fred- 
rick could interpret in any or of several ways. 

" Well, then, Miss Rodney, I am not prepared to 
express an opinion on the book." 

" You mean you cannot ? " 

The minister was silent. 

"Or you will not?" 

The Rev. Fredrick was silent still, yet his silence 
did not seem discourteous. 

"Or you dare not?" Miss Mildred shot the last 
arrow in her quiver, and it wcnt home. 

"It is for you to say," he finally answered, looking 
at her gravely. 

" I do not claim the last word. Dr. Stanton." 
She picked up the book from the table whero her 
mother had laid it when she went out, and turned its 
pages as if the minister were jiot in the room. Hr iid 
not break the silence, as if he knew sht wouid speak. 
Finally she began to read aloud. 

" Page 127. ♦ Janet accepted him as her lover and 
husband without a single question. Although he had 
lived a life of conscious cowardice and she knew it, at 
this crisis in his career she forgot and forgave' so 
utterly that her act was redemptive for him, and he 
permitted the sacrifice on her part without remon- 
strance.' " 



1 1 

Miss Mildred Rodney lifted her eyes from the book 
and looked steadfastly at the minister. 

"No woman like Janet Arnold could ever love a 

"How do you know.^"' he asked unexpectedly. 

She seemed confused by the question and did not 
answer at once. The Rev. Fredrick had never before 
seen the fair Miss Mildred lose her self-possession. 

" A girl like Janet Arnold would not," she repeated 

" But to my mind," the Rev. Fredrick said slowly, 
" the character of Janet Arnold in the book seems to 
be taken from your own." 

"Do you think so.?" Miss Mildred asked in a low 

"I was struck with the resemblance all along." 
" But I would not act like that ; I could not love a 

"But was the man a coward at the last?" 
" Once a coward alwa3's one." 
"Do you want me to argue the matter.'" 
"No; the story has many faults. Still, shall I 
confess, it made me cry." 

He looked at her in wonder. Wlion had any man 
ever seen the proud :Mildrcd shed a tear. But as she 
raised her eyes again, the minister for a moment fan- 
cied he could detect an unwonted dimness in their 
regular cold clear gray depths. 
" It made you cry .'' " 
"Yes; I wonder who 'Mark Burns' can be. I 



I would ask him if I rosem- 

should like to know him. 
bled Janet Arnold." 

When the Rev. Fredrick Stanton reached the manse 
after his parish calls were over, he found a telegram 
on his desk. It was from the New York publishers : 

''The Christian Socialist to-day passed its One 
Hundred Thousandth sold copy. Congratulations." 

He stared at the yellow paper hardly grasping the 
significant item. Four weeks later another telegram 
announced : 

"Book selling 1,000 copies a day. Unparalleled 
demand rapidly increasing." 

This was the latter part of March. By the first of 
May The Christian Socialist had leaped to the front 
of all the books of the day, and its sales exceeded 
three hundred thousand copies, with no indications of 
any slackening of interest on the part of either the 
buying or the reading public. The papers still dis- 
cussed the story, the religious press still bitterly 
assailed it, the pulpit continued to preach about it, 
workingmcn's organizations passed resolutions upon 
it, pyramids of it still loomed up in the book stores and 
on the railroad news-stands, and, contrary to all prece- 
dent, tJie book gained in steady sales as summer 
advanced, and a cong.-atulatory letter to "Mark 
Burns " in the latter part of May announced that all 
other publications issued by the firm were practically 
set aside in order to supply the enormous orders that 
were pouring in from all parts of the country and from 
Europe as well. 


It was a week !'ter this letter came that a visitor 
called at the manse one afternoon. The Rev. Fredrick 
Stanton was out in his parish somewhere, but the well- 
dressed stranger quietly told the housekeeper that he 
would wait. He was shown into the minister's study, 
and sat there evidently deeply interested in everything 
he saw until the minister entered the room. 

The minute he appeared the visitor rose to greet 
him with a smile. 

"Dr. Stanton.?" 


" In other words, * Mark Burns.' " 

The Rev. Fredrick was silent, but he observed his 
visitor intently. 

" You will have to pardon this intrusion," said the 
visitor with another smile. " I am the junior member 

of the firm of , of New York, and I have come 

to Lenox to see the author of the most remarkable 
book of the age, you cannot hide your light under that 
nom de plume any longer. The public clamors to 
know you. Our New York office is besieged with let- 
ters from readers asking for photographs and auto- 
graphs, and from lecture bureau agents asking for 
engagements. The newspapers are hot on your trail, 
and it has beei. nothing less than a miracle that you 
have not been found out and written up weeks before 
now. We want your photograph and life history for 
a new and specially prepared illustrated edition of the 
book, and I have come on to assist you in working up 
the material." 



" What if I should refuse all that? " asked the Rev. 
Fredrick slowly. 

" Refuse ! But, my dear sir, it is impossible ! The 
public must be appeased. It will not be possible to 
maintain this secrecy any longer." 

"Why not? George Eliot was not known as the 
author of Adam Bede for years. It was five years 
before Charles Egbert Craddock was known to be a 
woman. The author of Ecce Dcus, Dr. Joseph 
Parker, of London, did not disclose the fact of the 
au- orship of that book for more than ten years after 
if was published, and it was discussed by the people in 
his own church, who never suspected that he was the 

"But I should think, my dear sir, that you would 
wish to be known. There never was such a sale of a 
book in this country. We have been obliged to dis- 
continue every other publication to meet our orders. 
It is simply unprecedented in the history of the book 

" Nevertheless I do not wish to disclose my identity. 
I have my own reason for not wishing to be known as 
its author." 

The publisher was silent a moment. 

" I doubt if you can maintain the secret. Of course, 
if that is your firm decision we shall do our utmost to 
respect it. You need have no fear of that." Then 
after a moment of hesitation he asked, " Is it — do you 
— that is, is this reason you have for not wishing to 
be known anything you can give to the firm ? " 



The Rev. Fredrick Stanton answered slowly. « It 
IS not. The reason is one I have never disclosed." 

The visitor bowed and soon after took his leave, 
promising again solemnly to respect " Mark Bums' " 
secret. When he had gone away the minister bowed 
his head upon his desk, and when he raised his head 
at last the habitual sadness of his face was deepened, 
and the whole man seemed depressed even at the 
moment of his highest fame, from which he apparently 
shrank as from an unwelcome visitor. 

Summer faded into autumn and autumn whitened 
into winter when the great event transpired which 
marked church history for Saint Cecilia for all its life 
to come. The Rev. Fredri_^k Stanton, D.D., had 
been chosen from a large number of candidates in the 
churches as Bishop, to fill the position of one who had 
been removed by old age from ^he distinguished office. 
The ceremony of inducting him into the high place of 
honor was fitly performed in the magnificent audience- 
room of Saint Cecilia itself. The congregation assem- 
bled was remarkable for its aristocralic appearance, 
for the fine display of rich gannents and the unques- 
tioned high tone of its social standing. The array of 
distinguished guests and church officials and neighbor- 
ing clergy was imposing. The people of Saint Cecilia, 
while truly grieving over the loss of their scholarly, 
refined pastor, felt at the same time a nr tural pride at 
the honor conferred upon him. Judge and Mrs. Rod- 
ney and Miss Mildred sat near the altar rail in their 
accustomed pew, and when the newly elected Bishop 




Came out upon the platfonn to face his brother Bishop 
and answer to the Bishop's charge, he glanced toward 
the Rodney pew for a second. Then he fastened his 
eyes upon the Bishop, a venerable old man, with a 
clear and resonant voice, who, according to the ritual 
of the Church, faced the new Bishop and propounded 
to him the regular questions. As the Rev. Fredrick 
made his replies, although reading them from the 
printed manual, he seonicd never to lower his eyes, 
and his face was grave, and Miss :Mildred said to her- 
self, unusually pale. 

The venerable Bishop finished reading, closed the 
manual, and then, to the astonishment of the great 
assembly he did a thing unprecedented in the history 
of a Bishop's consecration. He proceeded to address 
the new Bishop in his own words, not outlined in the 

" Brother Fredrick Stanton, I feel it to be a part 
of my duty to-day to add somewhat of counsel to the 
words of the charge I have in the name cf the Church 
just given to you. There is abroad to-day in the 
world a new spirit of so-called rdigious teaching, 
which is subversive of doctrine and especially danger- 
ous to the Established Church. I refer to the rapidly 
growing heresy of Christian Socialism, so cal'ed ! I 
especially refer to that most dangerous and pernicious 
volume published in the guise of fiction, and called 
The Christian Socialist. Its teachings are a grave 
and growing menace to wealth and social distinctions, 
and if carri.d out they will place the Church in a 


procariou. position and render it necessary for her to 
abandon the established order of her system of instruc- 
tion. As your elder in the Church I feel moved to 
dehver to you, my brother, my earnest charge, that 
as you have thus far in your pulpit ministrations com- 
mended yourself to the Church as a wise and conserva- 
ine leader m matters pertaini,.g to doctrine and social 
order, you wdl now, with the added influence and 
power that have come to you with this high office, 

truths handed down from our fathers, and combat all your mtellect and soul the heresy of this dan- 
gerous socia movement, and in particular the heresy 
of cbs popular volume, which has taken such strange 
and fateful hold upon the imagination of the comml 
pooplo, and m some cases upon the better-informed 
classes w,thm the Church itself. If it did^ot 
appear pre^ mptuous even in one who is your elder bv 
-any years, I would dare to express the hope that 
w,th ,^ur g.fts of „nnd and imagination, you 
rn^ht be ed to combat this most dangerous b;,kTf 
he present age with a volume which you might be led 
to CO truct. However that may be, my brother, I 
solemnly charge you, will you to the utmost of your 
great abdity, combat in privat. .nd in public the 
growmg heresy of Christian Socialism. Do you so 
promise, by the grace of God ? '' 

During this impromptu address, Mrs. Rodney sat a 
breathless listener, together ..itU all the other"! ^ 
great concourse. At first she h.d felt strongly like 

r»M':^':^ ■■x?<^%:?:-^i^:iv^a^-' y ^-i-^ffT^v-' 



disapproving such a departure from the established 
order of the manual. E'lt after the first two sentences 
she leaned forward with a smile of hearty approval 
on her determined face. The Judge looked pleased. 
Miss Mildred never withdrew her look from the new 
Bishop's countenance. 

" He is going to faint," she said in a half whisper, 
as the words of the venerable Bishop ceased and a 
silence unbroken by the new Bishop followed, of such 
duration that ]Miss Mildred Rodney feared her mother 
would be sharply conscious of a rapid heart-beat close 
beside her. 

Slowly, very slowly, the Very Rev. Fredrick Stan- 
ton, D.D., newly elected and now to be consecrated 
Bishop, turned a little toward the congregation. 

" I have a statement to make," he said, in a tone so 
low that the people in the back part of the church 
asked what he said. But as he turned again and faced 
his venerable colleague his voice rose in power until 
it filled with carrying force the farthest corner of the 
large room. 

" My first statement is this. For twenty-five years 
I have been a coward in the pulpit. My second is 
this: I am '\s author of The Christian Socialist, and 
its teachings are my heart beliefs." 





ALL over the cln.rch of Saint Cecilia a gasp of 
^astonishment rose. Mrs. Rodney looked 

loudl P"^f^- "^^''-t-' ^Vhat!" she exclaimed 
loudly Ihen, bewildered, she turned to the Judge 
and Mildred In turn. "What did he sav^" 
she exclaimed in a whisper to the Judge. Jud..e 
Rodney d.d not reply, but continued to listen grimly 
as btanton went on. 

"For twenty -five years, Brother Lee, and brethren, 
I have been preaching half a Gospel, hiding in mv 
own heart that which was the vital truth to me I 
was born into the established order of a wealthy, 
Wed class of social prominence. I entered t^ 
pulpit with this inherited inborn and educated habit 
of mind. As the years of my ministry have gone on 
I have been irresistibly led, however, to believe that the 
Gospel fully understood demands a new and different 
order of social life from that which the Church has all 
these ^,ars been teaching. Ten years ago this con- 
viction had grown so strong in me that I was impelled 
to write the story called The Christian SocMist, nd, 
I repeat it, that book contains my heart beliefs, the 
vital Gospel truths which I ought to have preached 






from the pulpit, but which I did not preach because 
of my cowardice. I knew this church would reject me 
and my teachings. I was, I confess it freely, too 
much in love with the social position I held in Saint 
Cecilia to be willing to exchange it for the ostracism 
and the misunderstanding I should henceforth know. 
But, Brother Lee, bretlircn, friends, all, do not have 
any compassion or even contempt for me. To-day for 
the first time I speak as a free man. The cachings 
m the book I most firmly believe are Gospel truths. 
I am not and would not be an enemy of human 
advancement. I love the Church even though I antici- 
pate its necessary action in my own case. To relieve 
her of any possible embarrassment, I here and now 
resign my position as one of her ministers, I lay 
down this high office just conferred, I step voluntarily 
into the ranks of the people, and if at any time I am 
called to resume the sacred office of a minister of 
Christ and give my message through the pulpit, I 
wiU gladly do so if I am called by God and my 
brethren. Meanwhile, I shall privately and publicly 
espouse the aiuse as I have declared it in my own 
book, for it contains my very life. We have already 
entered upon a history of the race which nothing can 
set back. The social movement cannot be stopped. 
The Church is powerless, society is powerless, to stay 
this last unfolding of the teaching of the Golden 
Rule and the Sermon on the Mount." 

He gravely and with great dignity bowed t the 
venerable Bishop, to the assembled clergy on the plat- 


form and then to the conffrogation. and turning 
walked, with head erect, from the platform and into 
the pastor's room at the side. As the door closed, a 
wave of astonished whispering swept over the assem- 
bly. Bishop Lee. after a moment of stunned embar- 
rassment turned to the congregation. 

"This service is over." he said briefly, and turned 
to his brethren on the platform. Judge Rodney and 
wife and daughter rose, and were among the first to 
pass out in stern and astonished silence. 

That evening the Rev. Fredrick Stanton made his 
last parish call as pastor of Saint Cecilia. Through- 
out that afternoon he had been holding conference 
with several of his brethren in the ministry. There 
was nothing, however, for him to do but what was 
inevitable. His brethren conceded that, after a fruit- 
loss conference, and withdrew finally. 

When Uie servant took in the Rev. Fredrick Stan- 
ton s card to Mrs. Rodney she turned red. then pale, 
and handed the card to the Judge. 

"Tell him we are not at home." she said sharply. 
The Judge turned a little uneasily in his chair but 
said nothing. 

The servant went out. Presently he came back and 
said apologetically, " Dr. Stanton wishes to see Miss 

Miss Mildred sat still, and her mother eyed her 

"TeJl Mr. Stanton Miss Mildred is not at home." 
Miss Mildred rose and faced her motlicr. 




♦' I atii going down to see him," she said. 

The Judge shrugged his shoulders. Mrs. Rodney 
struck the table with her jeweled fingers. 

" I forbid it ! you shalj not see that man ! " 

"Nevertheless, mother, I am going, for— for 

I " 

"If you disobey me you know what " Mrs. 

Rodney did not finish. Miss Mildred said simply, 
" If he asks me to marry him, I shall become his wife. 
Father," she suddenly turned and kneeled by the 
Judge, "I love him !" She hid her face on his 
breast as she used to do when a child, and the Judge 
kissed her, but did not say anything. Suddenly the 
proud Mildred rose and walked out of the room, 
before her mother could utter another word. 

In the parlor the Rev. Fredrick Stanton turned to 
face a self-possesF"d woman, who asked him to be 
seated, as if forsooth he were some indifferent caller. 

"I have come," he said abruptly— "to say good- 
bye. Of course I am aware that what has been done 
to-day finishes my life here, but it cannot finish my 
memories of life and " 

" What are you planning to do. Dr. Stanton, if I 
may ask.'" 

" I do not yet know. The platform is free to me. 
Out in the world the people whom I have loved are 
culling mt with their myriad voices of appeal. But 
all this is of no interest to you. Will you allow me 
to say, however, since it will not harm you, I have loved 
you these years of my cowardice and I know it has 








bttn a noble Ihiiiir for it h 

inng for it has cnmMvi] n.e. In part- 
».K from .vou 1 leave the be.^t 1 have known " 

.Mark IJurns." 

" DhI ^ou not say once, Dr. Stanton, that I w«, like 
the^ c-Wcter of Janet Arnold in T,e CHr.n.^ 

"I did. You sat for that portrait; it was my joy 
to^^have your presence with m. .hile writing {he 

"Then do you still think I would do as Janet Ar- 
nold chd and forgive and-and forget-her lover's 
coward.ce on account of-^n account of- " 

The minister had risen and had come over to where 
^liss Mildred v,as sitting. 

" Because she loved him so? Oh, Mildred-do you 
mean — you love " " juu 

" I will do as Janet Arnold did-if there is a place 
m your Christian Socialism for me " 

"The first place of all," said the Rev. Fredrick 
Stanton as he kneeled before her. 

"No" she said after a moment while the happy 
tears fell over her farn « «« i „ '"^PPJ 

Z\ } ^ '" ^°" ^■^°">'- I believe in your 

heart beliefs. I have grown to believe since I read 
your book, ' Mark Burns ' " 

^r^lZr"^' '"^ ""*"*'•'■' " "' -'-^ - '« 

"I know il all along," she said laughingly. "I 

"" '^ ""'y P"-"™ in ".<^ parish of St Cocllfa that 



^now. Have I not k 

coward with 


opt ii well? I wanted to be 

But now," ho Hsked, h little 

into the clear ^r 

troubled, as he gazed 

the storniv hfe that 
this— cast in jour lot 

y eyes, " now, can you follow nic 


•« inevitable? Can you bear all 

people, and 


mine; with the 


; ■ "" "*".> "^'P lo make, as my wife. 

as my companion, my very self? " 

She raised her face to his and let him kiss her for 
he first time. "Yea," she answered. « Whither 
hou goest I will go, and where thou lodgest I wi 
lodge; thy people shall be „.y people, and thy God my 
God; where thou diest will I die, and there' will I bl 
buned. the Lord do so to me. and more also, if augh 
but death part thee and me." ^ 

;'But you have sacrificed much," she added. 

smile ':r"T '^'"^'^.''' '" ^"^^'^^^^ -*'^ « glorified 
smile. I have gamed far .noro than „ bishopric 

s^nce I have both thee and a free conscience with I h 
to face the wide world." 

ril'p^'"\''"" !^". "'"'^'^ "^'^P* ^•°"'- "^^«««ge, Fred- 
rick?" she asked after a moment. 

"It remains to be seen," he answered slowly. "It 

th:t h" '"'"" 1 ""'' ^°"^ ''-' *- >-- now 

that the coinmon people were ready for the message of 
Jesus to the social life of men." 

.hl^lV^ *^f. *'""' ^^' "°* ^'^ ^"'n^' ^h«t then?" 
jte '"^ ^"^ "P "' ''"" •" ^°""^^-« f-th ar ' 

"Then let me be true to my promise. Woe is me, 




Mildred if I preach not this Gospel of a social Christ 
to men. 

"Woe to me also," she whispered. He realized in 
some degree the crisis for them both. And as he bent 
and kissed her she looked up at him not questioning 
his strength, and fearless of any evil in the future, 
he prayed this prayer-" Grant, Lord, for both of us 
thy peace, as together we face the needs and sorrows 
and wants and sins and yearnings and hopes and pos- 
sibilities of the great wide world that needs more than 
anything else the daily presence in its social life of 
Jesus Christ the Carpenter, the Son of God and the 
Son of man." 





m M 



EXTRACT from the Lenox Daily Times the 
morning after tlie scene in Saint Cecilia, where 
the Rev. Fredrick Stanton revealed his author- 
ship of the book called I'he Christian Socialist: 

" The result of the Rev. Mr. Stanton's action will 
be watched with the greatest interest. In reality 
what he has done is a challenge to the Church in 
general. There are churches in America, no doubt, 
where the author of The Christian Socialist could 
remain and teach his doctrines from the pulpit, but 
Saint Cecilia is not one of them, and the astonishing 
charge of Bishop Lee at the close of the regular 
charge to the candidate yesterday may be taken as the 
utterance of the conservative wing of the Church 
in general. The public will be more than interested 
to know what the famous author of The Christian 
Socialist will do. The Times is frank to say it does 
not believe at all in the implied teachings of that 
really remarkable book. To our mind the Rev. Mr. 
Stanton has simply stirred up unnecessary trouble by 
his book, and by the extraordinary action which he 
took yesterday. Some of the reforms which he out- 


1. 1. 



m human expononco. Others arc open to very „ave 
quesfon. The .vorld is no. prepared for sueh'radToI 
changes ,n .ts social pr„^.ram„,e. There are sZ 

work at all when :,ou try to apply torn, to the kind 
of u„,a„ ty that actually exists; „„,i, the worL "a! 

society , do business, and make noUf ,Ve fl, u 
T^/i^ rn • ^- o "laivi- poimcs, the schemes of 

Ihe Christian Socialist will be simnlv .;=• ^ 

impracticable. We are of fhn ■ "^ ^"^ 

Fredrick St f i 7 "P'"'""" *^'^* ^^e Rev. 

extremel' : ''" '"* ^ ^°«^ J°^ -^ -" And it 
extremely c •> c-ujt to secure another." 

One week later, the Lenox Times contained the 
announcement of the marriage of "Miss MHd red 
R dne.y, daughter of Judge Royal Rodnev, of the 
District Court, to Rev. Frcvrick St«nf r. T 

Author of The Christinn ^n . f ' ^•^•' 

<5o- * r. .,. V ' 'S^fwZesf, and late Pastor of 

Saint Cecilia Church." The Times went on in a 
column-long "story" to unfold this latest news: 

"This latest phase of the Stanton sensation is in 

a the r!| " '"^ ^'''" ^°^"^y -- P-formed 

at the Rodney residence, with the family only as wit 

nesses. Judge Rodney is said to be reconciled to Tk 

-tch, but rumor has it that Mrs. Rodn J ^a p 3 ^ 

society. There ,s a story going the rounds that 

Tin-: coimADESHip of love sr 

o™clus,„„ of ,1.0 coro,™„,.. Dr. S,.„t„„ cJui I 
.« ., ,,„„„,g 3,,„,^ „„, ,, ,_^ ^^ cong^tulatcT ' 
l«""g «„„ a ,„„,t thoroughly acco„,ph-shcd a,. 
^l.-™,„g „,fe. When ,,co„ h, a K„.. 'portt t : 

:::,:i..';^ "'""'' -^ '""= "'■*' -'^ ^-'-^ p-™ 

■.sJori,'"' ' V ■™" *'"■? -"^ ""•'•' " "■•■^drick Stanton 

n I„, ;;■ ,h"; '"* •"™ ^•''■"^ '^e newspaper 
out loml. She that «a, once the proud daughter of a 

proud and oxelusive,- ,o„kod at her hu band 
"« of eve, that revealed a nature tra„sf„rn,ed by a 
redenung love which „,ake,, a„ „„>„,,„ p„,,.y^ ''^ 

™,-le °"' " J"^' °' ^o" '>'"'• »l>e said with . 

.aZ'!";;;^'^ ■ *° ""^ -y-- "'»>■'. ""'' it make 
«n '^ • • lous between us?" 

Dovouwant -^ fo quarrel with you?" 

,b,e.^"" " '^ "''"^' ' •'^"^*'' ' """k it -uld be advis- 

l Then I say I shall never do it." 
" But you arc now. " 

« MiW \1 ' "'■" "''" ^° ^' ^^^-' -y Jove." 
sider us ^ood for copy from now on ? " 
It does not trouble me any » 

"Not even if they describe in detail our wall-i,an.r 
and our eating habits at the table P " ^^*' 

"I shall be too busy to read them. Besides, have 




you not learned jet, dear man, that I am perfectly 
satisfied, and care naught for what all the world says, 
knowing yoi as I do? " 

"Thank God," said the mirister to himself gently. 

"•^There is no doubt in her dear mind. 
Tis heaven born and het. -en kind.'" 

"Mildred, I wish your mother liked me better » 
" She likes you better than you imagine. Mother is 
not implacable. But of course she does not under- 
stand you. For that matter she does not under^ 
stand me." 

"But your father -'» 

" He has studied these things. I think at heart he 
believes some of your doctrines. The rest of it is 

vatve "" *'"'*°''^' ^""^ ^^"''' ^' ^^"t^°"«l3^ <^onser- 

II You are not sorry you married me.?" 

II I shall be if you ever ask that question again." 
Pardon, dear woman. I have not yet become 

accustomed to the great fact that Mildred Rodney is 
mj wife. I am still dreaming." 

" It is a pleaesant dream.? " 

" It is heaven for me." 

" Please, then, do not wake up." 

M^r^r ^ ^°' "'' ^^^ ''^''°" ^^" ^' J"«t as beautiful. 
Ml dred, you are sure, sure-of all this boundless 
laitii in one poor, incomplete human?" 

She came up and sat down on the arm of his chair 
and put her hand on his lips. 

-■m: -n.ii^ 


"Another word of that, sir, and I go home to my 
mother. Fredrick, a woman like me gives all, with- 
out reser\-e, when she gives. I am not perfect, and I 
shall doubtless disappoint your ideals. But I you, 
and believe in you to the last atom of my being.' 
When I cease to do that I shall be dead." 

He remembered that passionate outburst of his wife 
as long as he lived. It was framed m his memory in 
golden lettering, where he saw it during many and 
many a crisis of trying events that passed this man 
and wife through the furnace of testing, where noth- 
ing but an inexhaustible love for each other could pos- 
sibly have made the experiences bearable. 

After a moment she said: 

" You are going down to speak to the st/ikers this 
evening.? " 

" Yes, they have invited me to their conference." 
"Can I go too.'" 

" I don't know," her husband answered hesitatingly. 

"Do you want to go.?" 

" Certainly I do, if it is allowable for me to come." 
"I don't think Harvey will object. But the men 

may not like it. I understand they are getting to be 

ugly, and I am seriously pprehensive of real trouble." 
"You would rather I wouldn't go.?" 
" On the whole, yes. It is an unnecessary risk." 
"How about yourself, Fredrick?" Mildred spoke 


" I don't believe there is any danger." 
" But you just said there was." 


(i 1 

' " ; 




1 : 


; J i 




"I said there was a risk." 

" And jou don't want ,„e to lake it and you are 
going .nto.t .ourself. Is this your boasted woman 
equality before the law?" "woman 

" I am a nmn," he said simply. " gay what you will 
about w„„«n's rights and all that, you know we 
enough Mildred, I have never preaehed nor beHeved 
m my book or elsewhere, in any other vision of woman 
hood exeept that which my own mother enshrinX 
her own holy of holies. Woman may be entitled to a" 
h legal and poht.eal and soeial rights of man, but 

^irength and proteot.o,, and love as a eompanion, that 

" Still, while all this is true, my love, I do not want 
you to any unnecessary risks with these striker,. 

Be careful, won't you, Fredrick ! What should I do 
It anything were to happen to you?" 

'■Are you so dependent on me then, dear one?" 

You are all to me," she said, and the words sang 

n his heart „, he went down to the place of the meet- 

ng that evening, the vision of his wife in all her love- in his soul into an almost painful ecst:; 

The Lenox strike had been in progress now for over 
e^ght month. The long brick row of mill. d^nZ 

tin7crj'""«"'^ ''"""■ The machinery Z 
^ ^^""'^^ ^^ simplicity itself. The mill 

corap„„y h,.., ,p,„,,., „,^ „„^.___^.^__ 

.. h the pres,cie„l. TI,o »p„ko„„a„ of „,o ecnnittc. 
had made the statement to the suporinten.lent that 
»as contrary tu the rules of the Union tli.t n 
men should work in the mill T. "<>"-U"ion 

oiiv in tne mjll. The supirnitendent had 
cut h,„, short by saying the co„,pa„v had d "o 
n^fcy any ,„,,„ „,,o eould do the .-ok, regardles 
the Union. The co,„„,iftce barked out of the office 

out of the buildmg, seven million dollars' worth of 


»eary, wasteful, unchristian months 

That was the story of ,l,e great Lenox strike down 
to the evening when Fredrick Stanton bad been inrt d 
by Bruce Harvey, the President of the Union, to speak 
at the meeting ,„ the Hall to the men, who for ^ r 
h.lf a year had been loafing about the streets and in 

he saloons of Lenox, doing nothing, earning ot! 


the best w.ay to advance theZlTlZCX^ 
So far here had not been an act of violence Har- 
'ey had 1,1, men well in hand. To-ni^ht as St.nt!, 
went up t,, „,„,,„^^ ^^^ ^^^ t,fl:tTZ 
could read al sorts of things in his face and ma" 

H Vir" )''/'"'%''' " -'-i". »ell-defi„cd type 
He was not educated, yet he knew better than most 


■1 *: 




professors of political cc„„„:„y .„d sociologv i„ ,he 
umvers,t,es, .l,c history a„d writings of the entire 
labor movement. He had saturated hinselT ir h 
doclnnes of Karl Marx, and eould quote exact v and 
«p.ou,I, ft„„ ,1 the Socialistic writers, Blat hfo" 
Hy„d„,a„ Jackoby, Rautusky, To™ M^n, Cl f 

Ministers as a parasi::r:,:-t,iVe;;XTu2;::'' 

oTthTir"^"'"^^*'''-'^'' "■■'■' ^-'>=«""^ 

With .11 this true of him, Harvey had kindly and 
generous personal qualities that endeared him to the 
Td n '"of trxT "' """ '" "'•■ '° "-' P'-e of Pr*! 

buil g ° i::r:7 '""t'-nT" ""• « ■-- « 

To-nihtit. • """' ''y *^' Union, 

lom^ht ,t was jammed, aisles and gallery, with a 
restk„. n„.y mob of nearly three thousand Th^ 
street outside was packed with -= „ 
»nd one of the Union I. !l T^ """ I""?'"' 

crowd there when H.,^ ''"^"7"" ''"'"S^-g 'he 
men insii ^ '""^""'' S'^""'" '» 'ke 

SUnton came forward, and the men gave him a 

II :? 


somewhat boisterous Most of them had read 
his book, Hiid while the majority- of them had no use 
for him as a minister, they considered him as an exceu- 
tion, and were ready, so Stanton thought, to give him 
a respectful hearing. 

He began by expressing his gratification at the good 
order tliat had i.revaiLd among the men during the 
progress of the strike, and then went on to make a 
frank statement concerning his opinions of the strike 
in general. He quoted three or four well-known labor 
loaders with telling effect, and the men were quiet, 
though Harvey, sitting there with his dark eyes 
sombre, and brows contracted, easilv detected a mark 
of restless dissent from Stanton. Perhaps Stanton saw 
It too. If so, he gave no sign, but went on calmly to 
say just what he believed. 

"President Harve> asked me to say what I believed 
IS the remedy for the troubles that exist between Cap- 
ital and Labor in this country. I'm not goincr to 
quote the statements made in the writings of most 
Socialist authors. Vou are familiar with them. 
There is, however, one great factor which I do not 
find mentioned by any of them, which, to my mind, is 
the greatest of all. The Great Workman of the ages 
mentioned it very many times in his talks with the 
multitude. Indeed, so far as I can discover, he made 
mention of no other remedy for human troubles of 
every description. That remedy was, not bigger 
wages, fewer hours, more land, bigger houses, finer 
clothes, boiler food, but love for one another. That 




s \ 

IK&tSraiW ''3SSII?TTI:I^S^^'-'Si 




nrcorclm^ to Christ, is the greatest nract.Vnl i 

'•-• "II the trouhlos of tho worh! " ^ """''' 

tJ'ZTy'f''''''y''''''''''''-^^'^^^- Stan- 
ton took a vtcp f„r„ar,I. Before he could speuk a 
<i')/cn voices rose "'r'l,;. • .^ , ^ 

,,•,,, /"'■ *''"* '»'"t no church." " \Vc 

tiuin t come m licre to lisfo^ * i • 

Iik< nil the re o' tt r «•'' " ^^'"^ 

"llarvej!" preachers ! » « Karvej, i » 

Stanton waited quietly until he could be heard 
/'"" ;^•^""' -»"J. "I'm not here to be^ for, 

„„^ J ^ ' ^"^ ^"'^ a hearing with n 

"o d of „„„ „,,„ ^^^^ _^_^ ^^ can " ' " 

Ho walkod back t. Ms chnir and sal do.„ TI,o 

Bullj. for you, ,pe„k„!" .-Go „„ ! Go on'" 
Other v„,cc., however, called out for Harvey. sTan- 

i:f ::X '"'"" ^^""'- "--^ '°°^''' «* >■'"■ 


^^^•^They don-l l,avc to listen to n.e," Stanton said 

" Fools ! » Harvey exploded. Then he got ud with 
. onnd and in one stride was leaning ovfr the^::'! 
"ghts. H,s long arm shot out with rough and vicious 



gesture, an<I every nm„ in ti.e luill felt as if something 
had struck iiiiii in the face. 

" Hain't you got sense enough yet," he roared, « to 
know that it's the „.en that d<,n't believe like we do 
that can teach „s the ,„„,st? I don't beheve 
half the stuff Dr. Stanton preaches, |,ut I've «ot 
«cnse enough lo keep still while he's talkin^-, and then 
tell bun so when he's got done. And what difference 
does ,t nmke to him anyhow if yot, .lon't listen, the that's got a hearing through the press and 
tne platforn. a million bigger'n this ; what's the 
sense of trying to howl hin, dovvn! Dr. Stanton is 

of he I latfonn Committee, and by thunder, if you 
don t treat him civilly you can go to kingdon. come 
tor a new chairman ! " 

He stopjK.l suddenly and walked back to his chair. 
The crowd cheered good-naturedly. Cries of « Stan- 
ton Stanfon!" went up all over the hall. He 
nodded H. response to Harvey's questioning look and 
r .nd went forward. There was vigorous applause ceased the minute he began. In that hush 
Stanton thought he could hear through the open win- 
dows an unusually loud roar fron, the crowd outside 
Several faces in the hall turned toward the windows, 
and at the back of the hall a nun.ber of men went out. 
Hut It was quiet enough inside, «s Stanton said • 

As I was remarking, according to Christ, the 
most practical remedy for all the troubles of the world 
is love, and that is the one remedy that you soc.-.i 




t'^ : 

Ubor Icder. Uvo the let „ .., „b„„, ^ ^ 
B«rlm just announced. It i, . ,|„.,„„,i„„ „, 

"'1. One vote for every adult, man and woman- 
a hohda.yo be election da,; p„,,ent^^ 

X. J he government to be responsible to parlin- 
ment ; local solf-govornment ; referendum. ^ 

^^^3. Introduction of the militia system 

pre« ^"'^"" "^ '^'''^ "'^ ^-^^"^ of the 

;;;5. Equalit^^ of man and woman before the law 

„.;• "'sestabhshmcnt of the Churches 

7. Undenominational schools, with compulsorv 
attendance and gratuitous tuition. ^ ^ 

;;;8. Cratutiousness of legal proceedings. 

^^ 9^Gratu.tous medical attendance and burial. 

duty.* ^°*'""" "^^'"^ *^- -d accession 

"This is not the whole platform, but it embraco, 
the mam th.ngs contended for. Now, of cour e I 
beheve all these things. They seem reason e to 

Bu't I th"7r u'" *'' "^^"^'"^ -«" ^^Sht to have 
But I thmk that both employer and employed need 
.no e than ,^ ,,,^^ ^^ ,^^.^ ^ ^^^^P ^ .>^ need 

love for each other. 'Man shall not live by bread 
alone,' . a profound economic staten.nt 'if he 
laboring masses succeed by the ballot or by legis Lt on 
- getting these things for the physical life^ It I 





not get love to man and love to God, it will profit 
them nothing. All true progress towards an ideal 
social condition is based on a deeply religious founda- 

on. That is what all your socialist leaders Imvc 
left out. They clamor for the bread, but it is bread 
alone. And when you get it, it will not satisfy you, 
because a man cannot live by bread alone." 

It is doubtful if ten men in the hall understood 
Stanton. He was conscious of that, but was going 
on, when a roar of voices outside rose so fierce and 
sudden that hundreds of men sprung to their feet all 
over the house. 






ond his voice roared over ft u ^ ""^ P'^tfo™, 

force ! No violet TVl''"'' "' ""^ "»' " ^'o 
- «I, have tal e^into al; ? ■'"■ "=-'«'" 
-b .urged towards .he exi T/ ,1° t",,"- ^''^ 
"Kill the scabs!" "Ha'^. ,' '"'" ^'"'"8' 
Men fought for the:,. 1*^ "" ' "Kill 'em!" 
those in L„ to ; „'';^: ;«"'"!,' "-^ -" '-h of 
H«"ey ju„,ped ofe t e /ooT f r" "' ""^ -"'• 
heads of the frenzied h!^r * • '■'«'" ™ 'h'= 

-"".ing ; cursiug, ,f„d'thrt t„ g a"' ^f 'f. '" 
all in one brcatJi Thn '-**'''"'"g' «nd pleading 

-d fought for the I;r" ""^' '^'^ ''^ -^-n 

Stanton's next recollection was of « U .m 
-nent, .hen he found hi.self Le to ff ''?; 
Harvej out doors in front of the hal • ,^ . '''*'' 
the surroundino- mnh ha, • ' ^"'^ ^"^^c of 

«o™ the sta rf.r if 1 "f.'"l"'™ ''°"' ""' »"<' 
bursting reserv'o r S U ^'s" T"' °'' ^■""' 

had been the sa„,e as Har "^V ™''; 1""° """'«'" 
to train men to keep awav fro„ a V " ™' """« 



*^ -- 

*'**2SS^sai;„ :^_^_^ 



It i^ not impossible to accomplish the first task; it is 
practically useless to attempt the second. 

Stanton looked his interrogation at Harvey. The 
President of the Union had lost his hat, his collar 
was missing, and one sleeve of his coat was torn clean 
off. He was perfectly self-possessed, and answered 
btanton s silent query, by saying, "The game's up! 
They won't listen to reason. Cold lead's the only 
hing now. And I hope to God every fool in the 
Union will catch his dose." 

Then a fierce current of different nationalities, 
composed of half-drunken, howling, swearing, fight- 
ing strikers, poured in between Harvey and Stanton, 
and the next vivid recollection of the events of that 
night that Stanton had was of seeing a negro sur- 
rounded by the mob. This was down by the mills 
The negro was tall, burly, and was fighting for his 
Me. His clothes hung about him in rags, blood 
streamed over his face, ashen-hued and sickly through 
Its black pigment, while the screaming, frenzied mob 
plucked at him, and struck him with fists and clubs 
and stones. He was still on his feet when Stanton 
reached him. He mistook Stanton for an ene,ny, and 
struck him a tremendous blow on the face. Stanton 
reeled, but recovered, flinging his arms about the 
man and in doing so received a dozen stunning blows 
on the head and body. He felt faint and knew that 
consciousness was going. The next instant he fell 

bearing down with him the 

down, he was aware of a disch 

negro, and as they went 

iarge of guns that 




: I 


roared over and through the mob with grim certaJntv 
Then he felt the trampHng rush of many feet str ^ 
ing has prostrate body, and after that he knew noth- 
rng more, until he came to himself, to find his wife 
kneehng over h,m, wiping the blood from his face 
and callmg him by name. ' 

"Fredrick! Fredrick! This is terrible! There 
dear! Does that feel better?" ' 

He was in great pain, but he smiled at her, and 
managed to let her know that he was not sh t or 
fa aUy hurt. Men were still running about, and sev- 
eral dark forms were on the ground. The ^egro lav 
party under Stanton. Some one came rnnZlZ 
hastily and got down by Stanton. It was HafveT 

"Oh, Mrs. Stan' i ! P^ Harvey, I'll get Dr 
Stanton home. You're not shot. P You wenf down 
.ust in tim. That was a brave deed, andlS never 
i^orget It. I saw the whole thing » 

and the negro over to the office of the mill company 

"What'll we do with him.P" asked Harvey of the 
doct.,pomtmg to the negro, who was stilfun^^^^^ 
Stanton heard him. 


"M .v#^/ 



So Ihc „,.,„ „■„, sent along in the ambulance with 
J.™, and Mrs. Stanton, witl, the help of a neighbor's 
«.fe, nursed and tended both patients until morninB, br„ugl,t with it the relief of the doctor's assuf 
»nce that ne.ther Stanton nor his unexpected guert 
were in any danger. ** 

TJie Lenox Times summed up the ,1c afFair next 

"Six killed, twentj-four seriously wounded. The 
soldiers fired only after everything else had been 
done to disperse the mob. Bruce Harvey is emphatic 
m his denunciation of the men who led off In the 
attack on the scab workmen. Most of them were 
negroes, brought up here last night by the cor pany, 
who hoped to got thorn inside while the strikers wefe 
holding the meeting uptown. The guards had grown 
careless, and it was all through an accident that the 
design of the company was discovered. As usual, bad 
whisky figured in tho affair to a large extent. The 
first trouble started /rom the saloon on B street. One 
of the negroes, who was badly beaten, was rescued 
by Dr. Stanton, and is now at his house. Mrs. Stan- 
ton was uneasy over hor husband, and hearing the 

one of 1 7: 7T'' '°^" "^^^ *^^ -"' -^ -- 
on of the first to be present just after the fatal 

volley was fired. We are happy to state that Dr. 

t=>tanton is not dangerously hurt. The whole awful 

affair is a logical outcome of the strike, which is to be 

deplored from every point of view. It is useless to 

I! f 



] i 





\m if 

argue w,th . mob, but the responsibility for this loss 
- ..fe rests the Union. Public sentiment, .-hich 
h.s partly, „t least, been with them, is now whol y „i h 
the m.U company. Let the law deal quickly and 
severely with the guilty." ' 

. .'^"'■" t »•«'' Stanton had recovered from the 
.njunes sufficenl to sit up. The negn, was in th 
ne^t room, „nd still in bed, unable to move except 
Wj^h great dUBculty. He had suffered from a bTow 
whjch had crippled his back. 

rhe man looked at Stanton somewhat vacantly at 
fir.^ and then Ins face cleared up as he said pain- 

"I'm feeling pretty bad, Dr. Stanton. But I 
don t know what would have become of me if you 
hadn t brought me here. I'n. awfully sorry I struck 
jou that night. I didn't know » 

Stanton put his hand up to his own face and felt 
of the scar on his cheek. 

;; You hit hard. But I threw you all right." 
forget".'* " *'"' "' ^°" '^'^^ -^ 'i^- I -on't 

The man raised a grateful face towards Stanton 
and big tears rolled down his cheeks. * 

After a while Stanton said simply: 





n the stamp n.ll at Harlan. When the strike began 

nl /l T" M """ "^*- ^^'^' ^'•°*h^'- -«^ killed dur- 
mg the trouble at Ball's mill. He was a scab, too. 

rien I came up here with the crowd. The Lenox 
mil agent got me to come by promise of big pay and 
protection. I need the work. My wife ! „' "^hree 
children are at Harlan now." 

I' Why didn't you join the Union.?" 
" Wr.ld you join an organization that killed your 
own brother, and then threatened to kill you because 
you wanted work.?" because 

Stanton looked at the man and was silent. His 
mmd was going over the field of action covered by the 
history of trades-unions, and all the good and bad 
commingled that the organizations had been so far 
productive of. 

"Besides that. Dr Stanton, in one of the shops at 
Harkn where I worked for si. n,o„ths as a helper, 
the Umon would „„t admit a black ,„„„. An, I to 
blame for blaek? All I a* is a fair chance to 

thej try to kill me. Is that rlo-ht ' " 

Stanton did not reply. Wh^t answer was there to 
a cry hke that.^ After a little more talk with the man 
fee wen back to his room. In three weeks the negro 
was well enough to £^t up and leave the house. He 
was simply one human life that drifted into the cur- 

in e 

hi I 





I » 


rent of the lives of Fredrick Stanton and his wife 
Mildred, one out of hundreds that rapidly became a 
strange and vivid part of their history, now that the 
world had become their parish instead of Saint Cecilia 
How dnnmutive and contracted that little parish of 
the Metropolitan Church seemed to both of them now 
And yet Fredrick Stanton still loved the Church, and 
It was withm range of possibility for him to go back 
into the ministry. 

He was beginning to feel perfectly strong again, 
and was looking over a large mail containing many 
invitations to lecture, and talking over the matter 
with his wife, when Bruce Harvey called. 

After inquiries as to his recovery, and the where- 
abouts of the negro scab, Harvey said gloomily. 
Matters look bad for us, Mr. Stanton. sTnce that 
night we ve steadily lost ground. To-day the com- 
pany started up the lower mill with two hundred non- 
union men, and there was no resistance. It looks as 
if we were going to lose everything, after all » 

"You have lost public sympathy. Violence is 
expensive Besides, your cause was not just, to begin 
with The public will never really endorse a strike 
that began like this one. Of course, you have a per- 
fect right to strike. But you have no right to force 
all men into your Union, or dictate to them." 

" Why don't they join the Union then ! » burst out 
Harvey, with one of his fits of sudden rage. « Why 
don't they see what is good for them and help organ- 
ize one solid compact of labor ! The scab is an enemy 



of the workingman's best interests. He is like a 
traitor in the republic. And while I did my best, as 
you know, to prevent violence or force, I cannot help 
feeling bitter toward the men who refuse to join with 
us in a common fight against the unjust exactions of 

" Of course I don't agree with your point of view 
of the whole question, Mr. Harvey. I think the 
Labor Unions and the Socialistic Parties, and the 
other organizations that are antagonistic to Capital, 
are ignoring the one greatest thing in the world that 
can bring any real remedy to bear. You heard me 
state it the other night. I don't need to repeat it." 

Harvey was silent, his large, heavy face showed 
gloomy and doubtful. 

" Mr. Stanton, I've read your book several times, 
and I have admired it. There is a good deal in it to 
admire. And I'm frank to say I admire you and the 
course you have taken. But tliere are some things 
you don't know. Pardon me for saying it. You 
have never been through the mill yourself. You have 
studied these questions and mastered them in one way. 
But the real reason for the struggle between Capital 
and Labor; the real reason wliy the -vorld right now 
is moving rapidly toward Socialistic ideas has not 
been really grasped by you. If you will come with 
me to-night, and spend three or four hours with me 
right here in Lenox, I think I can show you why it 
is that the struggle of Labor is so bitter, why it is 
that we have made blunders and mistakes like the one 


i : i 


■ar.'.. \};m\'m' 


the other night, why it is that your doctrine of Love 
as you call it, won't work." ' 

his"bertr'r°^°'"''^^^*'"*°" ''^^'^y- One of 
h. best traits was an unafFected willingness to be 

pation of something worth while that he accepted 
Harvey, challenge. Por it seemed to him T'. 

moK^°"n'''" "°* ^'* ™^ ^"«b«"^ '"to any more 
mobs, will you, Mr. Harvey?" asked Mildred.'^as T 
two men wont out. 

'■I'll promise that, Mr,. Stanton," Harvey 
answered with a grave smile. " We are \rci.TZ 
by the mill «„, but .here is no ZlZr'' ''""' 

Stanton k.ssed his wife good-bye, and went out 

p se R 7' .:"""P'«"8 -™-Iy the man's pu^ 
pose, Bu neither of them will ever know how m^uch 
that „.ght's experience had to do with the shaping °J 
ma^y .mportant events in the life of each L of 


z^' r-^^mtiii^'imsr^m^ii^maiimssaK^T^::^^^ 


ON the waj down to the mills Harvey was silent. 
When they reached the long row of tenements 
where the mill operatives lived, he hesitated a 
moment, then went on past them to the first mill, 
where the work was being resumed by the non-union 

The foreman, who knew Harvey, at first bluntly 

told Inm he could not enter. But after a few words 

he stepped aside and let Harvey and Stanton in, fol- 

owing them in the round they slowly made through 

the castmg-room, where the men were at work 

The night shift was being initiated into its duties 
by snmll gangs of men familiar with the details. 
Stanton had been through the Lenox mills several 
times, and knew quite thoroughly the different pro- 
cesses, but the sight of them always fascinated L, 
and he never lost his wonder over the human ingenuity 
which fashioned the machinery and controlled its 

There was one huge contrivance in particular, 
.hich always seemed like a monster possessing actual 
mtelhgence. It moved on a steel track high over the 
billows of gas and smoke that filled the building, and 







J had a number of steel arms Hmt rose and fell. 

of wh.te hot n.etal. and dropping, them whereve'r the 
god of the mac une directed. The men called it the 

Vict ms't / • ' ""^'r'^ *'"^" " ^^-^ ^' human 
victims o Its gnm credit, who had carelessly or in- 
cautiously dasobeyed the mechanical clock-like exact- 
ness of ,ts reach. The man who sat up in its cen , 
directing Its tentacles, was like a human spider. He 
worked his levers and shouted his replies to order 
from beneath in an uncanny bellow! that always 
--d to Stanton like the voice of' the machl': 

sJk7/'"* *^' '°""'*' ^°^«'"« *h^ Sloping 
parks, steppmg out of the way of bars of white steel! 

■that swept over mysterious tracks on cars that van- 
shed With their loads into funiaces shooting from 
heir mcandescent openings dazzling great splrs of 
hght, that stabbed the toilers with unearthly heat 
and made their grimy figures take on for the while the' 
vXaT"'' °^ '^""°"' '" '°"'' ""d^'-ground smithy of 

Stanton wondered, as he had wondered before, 
^f It all paid, really paid, this pain that civ- 
ilization exacted as the penalty for being civilized, 
and having railroads, and steel bridges, and things. 
And these were his brothers, at least his Christian 
faith taught him that; but looking at them there 
swarming under the ^^ntacles of the "Octopus," it 
was not easy to believe chat they were any more han 

■.• ly. 


parts of the for^re, wl.ith coulfl easily bo replaced at 
so much a day when l)i.rned out, as they were, on the 
average, every twelve years. « Lot us be civilized or 
die," he had heard Harvey say once. And he added, 
immediately, " nnd die — same thing." 

Coming out into the night air was like stepping 
into a cold-storage room, yet it was a warm summer 
evenmg. Harvey looked at his watch. 

" Let's walk down past the ' Row,' " he said briefly. 
The "Row" was the mill tenement district. It 
was over four blocks long, and as ugly and uninviting 
as red brick and uniform din.ensions could make it. 
Stanton had also seen this numbers of times. It was 
no better, no worse, than hundreds or thousands of 
such rows of houses all over the world, where Labor 
cats and sleeps and calls it home. There were the 
same unfailing numl)er of steps bordered by squares 
of trampled sod or h.ire dirt ; the same dreary displays 
of litter on sidewalk or in gutter; the same corre- 
sponding rows of saloons on the opposite side of the 
street, where Labor drowned its cares and spent its 
last cent; in the daytime, the same squalid, dirty 
groups of children and pathetic and apathetic women, 
I'oreground and background for the "Row." The 
higher-priced laborers lived in better houses and their 
wives and daughters were smartly dressed, and there 
was a "grading up" that argued well or ill for the 
future as it meant more civilization or more caste 
spirit; but the Lenox mill ''Row" that Harvey and 
Stanton walked slowly past, was typical of the rank 

■i r b 't. 



i I I 

* I f 


centre in the worM; ^ ** "' ^"'^'^ ''''''''y <>' -" 

All this time Harvey hn, 
Stanton had not asked u . 

end of the tc.enirnt 
turned, and said, " It's 
tli<' Avtnuo?" 

"Wherever vou s&y 
n^ghtr said Stanton b, 
Fifteen unnutes' waliv 
ter residence portion ol 

ot suid nnjthin^s and 
^•ons. Conn'ng to the 
' »'ent of the Union 
K- Shall we go up on 



arni- r. e ^.3^ ^^^ 

^ »vo into the bet- 
and they were'in t"hn7, <'''^\ ""'nute" mere 

chu.hef ...Jo:;":;!:'""' ■'' "■ ■*' »*- "■« 

"' ns nian> (liferent denominations TJ,. 

«Me open :jl: /:;,;;;, ;'-«;«"i..^ «.!,«„ 

after fen oVIock a„,l L "'" °"'-'' " ''"'" 

«"e,„pMo o„f„ e 1 1/'" ? '"''""''■ ^l-e 

brewo;s of l"'" , , ""'" ^"' ""*• •"" «>' 

'<.e,T " pltr J™':'. ;« ™"f -^ ■•*. " bW at 

J-'^.^ :1 thu- authunties had moved 



yinsl tlK.m Tl,. li„uor busi,,.,, ;, ,„ ,„„„i,„,i„„. 
-ll.v an.1 .„.b„u„l..v „„,, ,„.„i„..,„|, ,„.,„, ,^„, ,;""" 

<i»y-, .i„i. ti,c i„g ,,„„„ ^,,,,^^1,^,, ._^ 

"ffr ,•"■"'"'• ""''" '"•'■ <■- •'' ■""»' P"rt self 
"t "• "'"' """ '-J "" •'"-■ ■"•« --.lo. Wore til 
d>Hy common mill n,o„, those strikers, these rioti„« 
dn,nl<e„ m„b, .„y H„tio„ to S,.i„, CeeihVs elegai^^* 
refined and perf„,„ed eongreg.tion ? Onl^, , ptt of 
the Brotherhood, S„i„t Ceeili,, ; but vour Chris an- 
■ty as not meant that to vou, In spite' „f ,.„„r dl t „- 
gmshed wealt and eulture. When vo„ have eome to 
the plaee of Ins f„||e„ ,„i^,|,h„ ° 

and rchg,o„slv passed bv on the other shle."^ W ,, H 
be any m„„ than vour jnst deserts if ,„ the u.akinL 
up of the rewards ,„ the last Great Day, the .Judge of 
all the earth shall say ,0 you, O beautifully dr:ssed 
WCee„.a. "Depart from „,e! j J„,J 

In between the ehurehes, han.lsome residence, with 

The house was whitely dazzling, with lights at every 
».ndow. Elegantly dressed people were „„i„„ „„^ 
counng. Carriages and automobiles were°cro:ding 




up tc the curb in numbers to receive or discharge their 
owners Strains of music came from the open win- 

st^t f ?>: ''f r"- '^'" ^••^'"" ^^'-^ '-- «- 

street of the whole affair was that of lavish and in- 
different display of excessive wealth, which did not 
know what to do with itself except eat, drink, dress, 
gamble, and amuse itself generally. 

Harvey touched Stanton's arm and the two walked 
along slowly. 

siofif " tr *° '"'^ '" ' ^°" *""^' ^-'^'^ ^-p-- 

sionate ly. There was not a trace of bitterness or even 
anger that Stanton could detect in him. It revealed 
a now d unexpected characteristic of the man, and 

^:^zr'' ^^^^^" '-' ''--'^' p°^"^- 

"You know I suppose, that was Harwood's house. 
He .s one of the largest owners of the upper mill. 
The earmng capacity of that mill, according to the 
company Wn statement, two years ago, wfs seven 
mil'ion. The net eammgs, you understand, for div- 
idends. Harwood is one out of twenty oth^r men in 
Lenox who control the upper mill. It is strictly a 
trust, a monopoly of the most absolute character 
You see l^w Harwood Hves. The house is a palace 
^ou see how h.s friends live. There's one of thei; 

rfront 7^,?;"''^ P^^^'"S - magnificent residence, 
m front of was a splendidly wrought iron gat 
••'nd fence bounding a beautiful lawn. " VVri^htam 
l.ves there-he's another millionarie, who^e * 
comes out of the labor of Lenox lower mill. Hi^ 



family all go to Newport in the summer. His boys 
drink and gamble and liis girls smoke cigarettes, and 
from what everybody says the old man and his wife 
are not on speaking terms half of the time; but the 
main thing is money with him and her. Now :Mr. 
Stanton," Harvey turned his head a little more to- 
wards Stanton, «I said you did not understand the 
real reason for the socialistic movement, or the trade- 
unions movement. Your book is clever. I don't deny 
that, and you have shrewdly and truly hit on some 
real causes of popular social discontent. But the one 
greatest of all reasons why the world to-day is mov- 
ing with such swiftness towards Socialism is what you 
have seen to-night. On the one hand, a condition of 
physical labor, which, in one way or another, is 
attended with pain, danger, and excessive duration, at 
unfair compensation, and on \'^o other hand, a condi- 
tion of idle luxury on the part of those who profit 
unjustly by the fruits of physical toil. The 'Row 
down by the mills, and Harwood's or Wrightam's 
house are the visible sign of the injustice. The things 
we saw in the furnace-rooms, and the things we saw in 
the ball-room arc what make labor unions and social- 
istic parties. Does any wonder that men like those in 
the furnace-rooms, who are actually with their hands 
making the stuff that brings such enormous profit- 
does any wonder that they cannot be made to see that 
persons like Harwood and Wrightam are entitled to 
such an unjust proportion of the profits of the busi- 
ness m which they never engage with any physical 


I* r 


pain? Th.y WI us wages are high. But hov hieh 

are thej, co:„pared with the increase of dividend, 1 

l.e Leno. nulls during the last five ^oars ? If™ a " 

lad been .ncreased in proportion to diidends, ihl^e^ 

ney get no. But granting that wages are hi»h 
so .s everythmg else that a man haf to 1 ve on 

.^:r ;T '" " -'"«"^-'. -. coal, lu'^r; 

isoneof th / T" T'^''™' °f "f"^- Harwood 
heT„ 1 1 , ' °" °' ""^ ""' '"■»*■ Last winter 
o t«5r/'"r '"'"■^ '" «•' I-^o- ™as buy 

and the T ' t""' • ^"' " '"'' ^""^ "P '» *«-'^«. 

and the Trust says .t is necessary on account of the 

norease of wages paid to the miners. Yet, I noticed 

h^people who control the oil and coa, trLsts": ^ 

suffer from increases in wages. They don't have any 

fewer automobiles or receptions or trips to Europe or 

summer residences or purple and fine linen tIv 

smde to themselves, and let the people, the dea7 

ease their consciences, one or two of them, after put- 
.ng up c<,al twenty-five cents a ton or o 1 two cent, 
a gallon, benevolently contribute an additional amoun 
of the people's money to some college, university or 

Chnstmn philanthropists. The universities a^a 
good thing, perhaps; but if the truth were told over 

scribed the words, 'This building was efected by tte 
n.oney paid by the common people to meet a ri« of 


two cents per gallon on oil, or twenty-fiv, 


^ o w.. uu, or twenty-five cents « f^r. 

on coal, or seven per cent, share on railroad stock • « 
the case might be. This min-ht u j 

..p..™ .V ..~:f :£,-„•:;' -?»';s 

n.ade possible. To-d"* he is h "^ "* ''" "•" 
».<.«, because he beh L V .'j^rZ h "* '" 
".ore. The tenement and the X th 'd """" 
compared with the lu.ury, the s 2' IJ tf ' "T 
and unjust division of the f™it "T „K "r""' 

^n":ho :: r enTerth^rt r ^^-"^- 

have all their i^ Te^ .'LdCtr^™" ^"' 
and daughters have no aim 7„ • , ' ™"' 

amuse themselves, .hen .^ ask X:";"""' '" 


ruZg. "'""*' *° "' '"'"■'" ^''"' Stanton, inter- 

;; I^hould like to be present when you do." 
Will jou go with me.'" 


i i 

< fi- 





" Mr. Harwood wouldn't let me into his house. He 
regards me as a wild beast." 

"That is because you have antagonized him with 
the Union." 

" But he does not understand, he nor his kind, that 
there rmj be a law of collective ethics higher than a 
law of mdividual ethics. Wrightam and his kind say 
no man has a right to say whom the directors of 
Lenox mills shall employ. ' It is a free country and 
every corporation has a right to employ any one it 
pleases, and any man has a right to work for whom 
he pleases, without joining a Union.' That sounds 
ethically and morally right. But I say there may be 
such a thing as a collective ethical la^ that is higher 
and more binding than ihh much-quoted individual 
ethics. Here is what my friend Raymond said in his 
great speech last week before the Teachers' Assembly 
at Manchester : "^ 

'-Free contract in the individualistic sense has not 
existed m the industrial world for a generation. Free 
contract is impossible between the individual laborer 
and the superintendent of a corporation. The super- 
intendent makes the terms, the laborer accepts or 
s arves. The freedom of the individual laborer resem- 
bles that of a cat in a tub on a lake. The cat does not 

All that the laborer has gained for a hundred years 

manvTraT" ' '"' ^-^e-unions. That workmen in 
many trades now enjoy a fair wage and more rea- 
sonable hours of service, is due to the struggle and 







suffering of countless men, women, and children, loyal 
to the principle of Unionism. Shall we now permit 
men who refuse the social obligations of their age- 
.ndustnal reebooters. who would enjoy the fruits won 
Ky tho.r fdlow-craftsmcn without obedience to the pro- 
ectne den.and of the Union-to take the bread from 
he mouths of our wives and children? Shall we let 
those sdflsh, socal, and industnal traitors disorganize 
our trade, and render possible at the first breath of an 
Indus rial panic a return to the miserable wage and 
long hours of a generation ago ? Slowly have we won 
an advance in the standard of wages that m.i<os pos- 
sible better food, better wages, bettor clothes, and 
more schooling for us and our families? Shall this 
personal and communal gain be lost for the sake of 
^maintaining ancient individual rights which the world 
has outgrown, and the unrestrained exercise of which 
would pauperize our families and injure the whole 

" But I might as well whistle to the wind to stop it 
as to try to make Mr. Harwood understand the posi- 
tion of the Union in regard to non-union labor. And 
I don t suppose you believe in my position either." 

Frankly, Brother Harvey, I do not. And I still 
beheve in my proposition that practically all the 
trouble between Capital and Labor is caused bv an 
absence of love between man and man. Economically 
It does not pay to hate any one. The Harwoods and 
•Editorinl signed R. R., n.>., Chicago. August. 1903 






the Wrightams >f society arc apparently not worth 
iovir-. In reai v, very few people do love them. 
Outside of their most immediate relations, I suppose 
no one is so little loved as the average millionaire. 
And ,n many cases their own family relations are little 
to be envied if the record of the divorce courts is good 
evidence of unhappiness. What I don't see, Brother 
Harvey, is the reason for you and your companions 
m the trade-unions wishing to get more money, which, 
so far as history shows, means more misery. You 
don't suppose for a moment, do you, that either Har- 
wood or Wrightam are happy men.? " 

"That is not the question. It is a question of 
right, of justice. The men of the Union say it is 
unjust that a man who actually works with his body 
for eight or ten hours a day in a difficult, dangerous 
position, should receive only three or four dollars a 
day, while the man who controls the monopoly, but 
never does any physical labor, gets ten or a hundred 
times as much. Why should the actual labor, which 
shortens a man's life in some parts of the mill by one- 
half— why should that receive for its share of the 
valuable product the smallest compensation.? You 
say the brain labor necessary to direct the big busi- 
ness is worth more, and is entitled to more and far 
higher pay. As an economic statement that has 
always been accepted by the world as a matter beyond 
dispute. I suppose I should be called a fool for 
expressing any other view. But I do not believe in 
that generally accepted statement. I think the men 


r. 'l^ ^j - v -^s-f.-^y^^^ii 



who do the hard, dangerous, life-destroying work, 
ought to receive at least equal compensation with the 
men who organize and direct the work with their 
brams. In other words, I believe economically that 
the physical labor is worth just as much to the world 
as the mental labor, that the two go hand in hand, 
and there ought to be no distinction made between 
them when ,t comes to payment for service. A good 
many men believe just as I do. But the trade-unions 
don t go that far, generally, of course. But is it 
any wonder if we make a f,^- breaks like the other 
night, when after seeing a prospect of winning our 
case wKh the company, the non-union men come in 
and kick It all over.P The whole history of trade- 
unions shows that for a imndred years we have been, 
on the whole, making a manly protest for human 
rights; as Raymond says, it is true, all that the 
laborers have gauged for a hundred years has been 
won by the trade-unions. To have our purposes 
misunderstood, to have men like Harwood or 
Wrig^itam fight us as if we were enemies of society 
IS maddening; but the most disheartening of all is the' 
tact that workingmen themselves do not stand with 
us but get in the way of their own interests, and 
make it harder for us to justify our position with 
the public." 

They walked along some way in silence, and Har- 
vey finally said quietly, as he had talked all along, 
1 didnt mean to say so much." When Stanton 
reached the door of his house the two men shook 


I 1 






hands silently. As Harvey turned to go home he 

"Arc you actually going to see Harwood? Give 
him my love if you do!" 

" I'll see him and Wrightam, too." 
" You're a braver man than I gave you credit for, 
Mr. Stanton," Harvey replied, this time without a 
sneer, as he said good-night again and walked away. 
Stanton talked over the evening's experience with 
his wife. When he spoke of his determination to see 
the two mill owners, Mildred asked doubtfully, " Do 
you think it will do any good.?" 

"I don't know. Wrightam is a member of Dr. 
Rowen's church. Han^ood, as you know, has for 
years been a member of Saint Cecilia. Why should 
they not listen to the Gospel of Love.? " 

" They have not been in the habit of hearing it," 
said Mildred, and immediately exclaimed, "Pardon 
me, Fredrick ! " 

" It is true, dear," S*anton answered sadly. « How 
much of this Gospel did I preach during my pastorate 
in Saint Cecilia? I owe Harwood a message now to 
make amends for my neglect so many years." 
"How will he take it.?" 

" I don't know. Harwood is a remarkable man in 
many ways." 

" God be with you, Fredrick, as you ;^o to him," 
iiis wife said softly. 

"Am.n!" exclaimed Stanton. 

He had made his statement about going to see the 



mill owners, not lightly, but without realizing to the 
full all that the interview might mean to himself as 
well as to the men. Now that he talked it over to his 
wife, he began to realize with a curious thrill of gen- 
uine excitement what might possibly come of it. 





JOHN B. WRIGHTAM sat in his "den" the 
next evening smoking a pipe, as the servant 
brought in Dr. Stanton's card. The mill owner 
and trust promoter went out into the hall to meet his 
caller, and w,th a show of cordiality invited him into 
nis private room. 

"Have a cigar, doctor?" said Wrightam. proffer- 
ing a boxful. 

"Thank jou. Mr. Wrightam, I don't smoke." 
You miss a good thing. I'm so dead nervous I 
have to use a pipe." 

He took it up, put it in his mouth, and eyed Stan- 
ton through the smoke curiously. 

Ju! rr' *° ''' ^°" °" * '"""^^ ""^^'^ ^°""rn« the 
nulls, the men especially, Mr. Wrightam " 

and f^d'7"f *r '"^^ '" P'P^ °"* °^ ^'« -''"th' 
an 1 held ,t up, lookmg at the bowl through his heavy 

half-closed lids. « You're specially inteLted in the' 

men, Dr. Stanton ? Believe you were talking to 

them the night of the riot. Well ? " 

not"!!'f ^^"^^*'";: "^'* ^" ^°" '^^^ °^ t^««« --. 

not as forces in the economic world, but as human 
bemgs.^ I tried to say to them that night that I 




believed Ihe one thing they all lacked whs love for 
others^ I h„vc not here to preach to you, but 
I do feel that the whole trouble between you as a 
representative of the capitalistic class is oau;ed by an 
absence of love on both sides. The whole fact of a 
Brotherhood ,s completely ignored. Mr. VVriKhtam 

as brothers of yours.?" 

John B. Wrightam took his pipe out of his mouth, 
and l„s face turned very red as he stared at Stanton 
The sdence ,n the "den" grew oppressive. At last 
the mill man burst into a short laugh. 

"Love them! You don't mean it. Dr. Stanton- 
Love those men ? Well, I take it that's asking a trifle 
too njuch of John B. Wrightam! It isn't a proposi- 
lion I ever enlcrlaincd." 

"But is it asking too much to entertain such a 
propos,t.„n? you are a professed Christian, Mr. 
wrightam, and a member of a church. What docs 
your church teach.' What does ,,our Christianitv 
™lu,re ,f not just this, that you love these men and 
seek to do them all the good jou can ? " 

Again Join, B. Wrightam's face gn>w red, and he 
regarded h,s caller with astonished frritation. 

m, affec ,on on a lot of rioting, drinking lawbreakers. 
nilT W »■%" "'°'' '■'"' "'^ "" "•" '"«' ""^ "th" 

tl^n 7 Pr'""'""= '"'° """• Arrest about a 
thousand and put them in jail for thirty days 



for breaking the laus and ■nciting the mob spirit. 
That's what thej need! Talk about justice! What 
right hav'.' these men to love from me? They would 
dictate to us through that rascal Harvey and say 
wl • men we shall employ in the mills. But they are 
losing this strike. The mills are going again. And 
Harvey and his lawbreakers will learn they can't dic- 
tate to the Lenox Mill Company, not while John B. 
Wrightam is on deck ! " 

Stanton listened, and his blood boiled. If he had 
been guided by his wife's quiet spirit, he might not 
have said what he now did. But his vivid conscious- 
ness of the masterful, hypocritical pose of the man 
swept all other considerations out of his mind. 

He rose to his feet and faced the magnate like one 
of the old prophets. Wrightam's sullen, heavy face 
lowered in impotent anger as he had to listen. 

"John Wrightam, who are you to talk about the 
lawlessness of Labor, you, who have for years been one 
of the directors of as lawless an organization of Cap- 
ital as ever broke the statutes of this State.? You 
know better than I do how repeatedly you and your 
associates have used the influence of your great wealth 
to Ignore tlie laws specially directed against your com- 
bine. You kno^v better than any one except God, 
who will bring you to account if the State fails to 
do so, how many weak and helpless competitors you 
have crushed out, how many legislators you have 
bribed, how much money you have spent to corrupt 
courts and cover up the recoid of your company's 


.-:'•. 4 fr' I 



crime before the law ! Am] do 3011 talk to tnc about 
the hiwlessness of llicse worknuri, who are guillv, 
and for whom I am not pkachng .my excuse, but 
whose act is not to b«' compared for one moment in 
enormity with that of the continued hiwlessness of 
Capital throughout this Republic. Where Labor has 
broken the laws and ignond the stattito once, C'ap- 
■'al has done it ten times. And, shieki.ui by its wealth 
and influence, it pretends to grow indignant at the 
actions of Labor. Verily, if the Lord of all the eartii 
were here to-day, He would say to you und your kind, 
•Ye hypocrites, first cast out Hit beam out of your 
own eye, and then you shall see clrarlv to cmt out the 
mote out of your brother's eye.* (iod judg- you, 
John Wrightam, if you do not ackiio\vl< dge your sin 
against tliese men and against society. He will 
teach you one of these days how hard it is for rich 
men to get into the Kingdom of God." 

And having said this, Fredrick Stanton walked 
out of the house feeling that his errand had been a 
total failure; but not without a sense of righteous 
indignation that did not include very much feeling of 
regret that he had spoken his mind freely to a man, 
who, in the church which he attended, never heard a 
word of plain preaching on the subject of lying, 
bribery, or lawlessness in high places. 

He was talking it all over with his wife the next 
evening. She had expressed her complete confidence 
in his action, and lit- had been wondering with her 
whether it would be a case of pearls before swine to 






TStT. ";™«"!; •■'•™ «- Ml r„„g, and Stanton 
.ent to the do,,r. To l,i, undisguised astonishment, 
Hamood himself stood on the poreh 

Stanton asked him in at once, and noted as he did 
»o the man's pale, troubled face. 

"I would like to see you alone. Dr. Stanton, if I 

g^i'ting: ' """ '" '""' ''"""'' '^'- s'«to„.: 

Stanton led the way into his study, and shutting 
«.o door mot,o„ed the mill owner into an easy-chair 
Han,ood sank ,nto it and put his hands over L face 
Stanton wa,ted silently .„d eyed his unexpected vis-' 
-tor w,th .ntereslcd wonder, for the ,„an was as I 

had said to Mildred, very rem.rkahle ," 

"M„ „v 1 r^ „ remarkable m many ways. 

Jly ».fe left ,ne. Dr. Stanton, yesterday. She is 

not commg hack. The quarrel between us i irrec™ 

odable I do not thi„k-I do-„ot-think she ever 

really loved me. She was attracted by my wealth L 

was attra^ed by her beauty. We ha", ifved a dtg" 

Mv old 'I " Tf '■""""P""''""^. you understand. 

My oldest g,rl, Leona, will stay with her mother. 

The boys are ,n the military school at Poughkeepsie 

My J-oungest daughter will go to Franee'with':; 
"ster. Th,s separation will probably get into the 
papers ,„ time, but no one know, „b™t i, now b 
she and you and myself. Dr. Stanton, y„u „ere I 
faithful pastor ,„ me while you were at Saint Coclha 
^ou may have thought yoursdf a coward during thl; 
pastorate, hut your sermons contained many beaut 
ful and helpful ,hing.s t e, and your prayers oft n 






m i V 


.-■■V'»-'ji*iu='^— » .1W-- 


helped n.e. I don't know a man of my acquaintance 
who IS of any use to me now. It would be worse than 
mockery for me to go to a man like Wrightam, for 
example. He and the others do not know anything 
but money. My God ! " The man got up and walked 
across the room, then came back and sat down again 
Can you g,ve me any comfort? I am forty-eight 
years old. That was the birthday party celebratfng 
the event mght before last, Dr. Stanton. My sister 

If r ;L . r "" ^ ^'*"^' «°* ''' "P- She is igno- 
rant of the hell m which my wife and I have lived for 

twenty years. But I can't go to her. You are the 
only man I know who is likely to give me any peace 
of mmd. I felt as if I must go to some one, Jr I was 
•n danger of suicide. You see my affections were 

bound up m my wife. To have her leave me " 

He put his hands over his face again, and Stanton 
eyed him m wonder. Harwood had been the proudest 
man m S,unt Cecilia. Tall, handsome, a university 
man, with fine literary tastes, unscrupulous to ; 
degree m the market-place, kind and affectionate 
m h,s family relations, the sight of him sihing there 
humbled with this deep trouble, touched Stanton 

What was there to do but go to God with him ? 

Stanton got down by him, put his hand on his 
shoulder, and prayed. When the prayer ceased Har- 
wood was sobbing. That nearly broke Stanton down, 
but he rejoiced over it. He knew Harwood would 
not think of suicide now. 




"Thank you," he said after a while. Then there 
was a long pause. 

" I don't want you to think I'm converted or any- 
thing of that sort, Dr. Stanton. I know I've been a 
church member all these years, but that hasn't meant 
anything. I know, too, that I've wasted God's oppor- 
tunity with my money and all that. But this trouble 
has made me feel the uselessness of money and social 
power, and all that, to give happiness. Do you know, 
nothing in all my experience touched me like your 
action that day when you announced your authorship 
and stepped out of the bishopric ? I was on the point 
then of getting up in the church and commending 
your act and siding with you. I've been on the point 
a dozen times of coming to you since, to have a talk 
with you over the whole social question. I'm not an 
artistocrat either by birth or training. But circum- 
stances seemed to force me into the class of Wrightara 
against my convictions. I found I could make money 
easy according to modem methods of captaining in- 
dustry. All the time I have made a study of social 
questions. My sympathies, so far as mv intellectual 
consent is concerned, are rJl with LaF«r.' Something 
I saw of Bishop Potter's recently stirred m^ to blood 
heat. It was like this : 

" ' In the country in which you and I live, what we 
call civilization has undergone what is not less than a 
gigantic revolution. The huge ag,-regatk,n.s of c«jr 
ital which havt practically taken from tiw hands ^>f 
the individual the independent ,iisp„sition of his labor, 



and have introduced into his existence paralyzing 
uncertainty as to both his comforts and his future, 
and gradual widening of the breaches that separate 
classes from classes, and the competitions that, while 
they cheapen the nocessaries of life, increase the ele- 
ments of piM-plexity and uncertainty as to how great 
multitudes may obtain them, all th^-sc are features of 
our modern civilization full of cJanger.'"* 

" That is from his recent address on ' Wealth and 
Commonwealth,' at New Haven," s^^id Stanton, his 
mind in a tate of wonder at Ilurwood's disclosures. 

*• If I-aney had said it, the Lenox Timr.i would 
have called him a dangerous inciter of ck -atred," 
said Harwood. "Well, Dr. Stanton, somehow I feel 
as if ray salvation lay in this social whirlpool some- 
where. My home is destroyed. The incentive for 
the acquisition of money is gone. Something in me 
mast have satisfaction. My social sins have been 
iMWf. .Vot vices, but failure to be true to my own 
con^^^ions, to mj A;epest understanding of justice. 
Have you gei a copy of Herbert Spencer.?" He 
went over U, the book shelves, and Stanton pointed out 
the set of Sp<^ncer's works ^farwood took down a 
TolunK turned to a p«*^age, ^«^ read aloud : 

The system under which we ^t present live fos- 
ters dishonciy and i/ n^. It proivj^s adulterations 
of countless kinds. It ,, .^B^irerabk /<^ the cheap 
«t4t^tions, v^ikh, eventually , « mar,/ ^mm-* thrust the 
geii..;ne articl- ou# ^jf iJi, market ft i^*/fe to the use 

•Bish..p yAt,r in an addrc.s on " W«.ith «f.d Common- 
^cnlth." /. yrw «#,-|.n. Conn, 




of short weights and false measures. It introduces 
bribery which vitiate, most trading relations, from 
those of the manufacturer and buyer down to those 
of the shopkeeper and servant. It encourages decep- 
.on to such an extent that an assistant who cannot 
tell a falsehood with a good face is blamed; and often 
It glv^^s the conscientious trader the choice between 
adoptmg the malpractices of his competitors, or 
greatly njunng his creditors by bankruptcy. More- 
over, the extensive frauds, common throughout the 
commercial world, and daily exposed in law courts 
and newspapers, are largely due to the pressure under 
which competition places the higher industrial classes; 
and are otherwise due to that lavish expenditure 
which, as implying success in the commercial strug- 
gle, brings dishonor. With these minor evils must 
be joined the major one, that the distribution achieved 
by the system gives to those who regulate and super- 
intend, a share of the total produce which bears too 

ix:.'"*" *' ''^ ^'^" '' ^'^'^ '^ *^« -t-1 

"Now it's the last sentence that appeals to me. 
All my hf., .so far, I have been conscious of violating 

W helped to create the wealth. And the question 
- tl me now .s, how to get my mind into U.e right 
re ation with my convictions. I've got to do some- 
thing or I'll go mad." 

SU„to„ did „„, k„„„ ,.h,t ,„ j^ 
d-d kr.o.- what to «ive in the „y of spiritual healing 


When Harwood went away he gave Stanton every 
assurance that he was helped so far as that went, but 
he was not any nearer a decision as to his own future. 
One week later the rimes printed an item to the 
effect that Harwood had gone abroad. Stanton gave 
the matter no more thought, except to wonder a little 
that the mill owner had not been to see him, or tell 
him of his plans. But he was very busy preparing 
for his fall and winter lectures, and for the next few 
days Harwood was largely out of mind. 

Two days before going out on his first lecture 
engagement Stanton went down to the lower mill to 
get some facts concerning machinery, and its effects 
on the lives of the men. The mills had resumed work 
with both union and non-union men, and the strike 
was about over. It had been a part failure, but the 
Union had gained some minor advantages, and was 
biding its time for the next move. 

Stanton came to the casting-room, and was stand- 
ing close by the "Octopus," fascinated as always, 
whenever he watched it, when one of the workmen ran 
up to attach a chain to one of the derrick arms. As 
he finished the work and lifted up his body, Stanton 
had a new view of him. Through the grime and smoke 
and swirling gas wreaths of the place he recognized 
m one startling moment the face of Harwood. °Har- 
wood in the same moment saw that he was recognized, 
and as the foreman happened to be on the other side 
of the casting moulds, he stepped close up to Stanton 
and spoke to him hurriedly. 


! i 






T ^"7 "'1 l" ''" '"" "^y ' »"• h-'. Mr. 
X St«"ton. And I expect jou to respect my 

T I. ?""'■ ^''" ''°''™'"> taows me. But since 
I shaved my beard, I don't think even Harvey would 
recognise me. The men in the miU did not know my 
f«ce, and I am working here mostly with new men any- 
way. Ima'scab.- He spoke the word with a 
gnm sm,le. "r,l work out my salvation here-i" 
somewhere, Stanton. I have not been so happy f„; 
years. n„ at least one of the masses here And 
the work keeps me from thinking of her " 

He did not even try to shake Stanton's out- 
stretch hand but turned and caught up the steel 

mom : '"•'/'■••'PI-''- Stanton watch^ him a 
moment, and then w=„t on his way, leaving the once 
proud mdl owner a part of the wrestling forces of 
human stre» and struggle, under the ominous frown 

t^l'^' '^' -^'^ •=»=»■ no remorse or regret. 

But „e , ot the man trying to work out his 
salvation „ ,he way he had chosen haunted Stanton 

nLhlo^t 1 'r^ *" ' «""' "•"'™« ™ *= fi"t 
night ot hi. lecture engagement outside of Lenox 

.Stanton laeed h,s first audience away from home 

•mce m. res,gnat.„„ from Saint Cecilia^ith a fteT 




not all .n the groat crowd, I,ad oomo to .co hinf o„ 
of ounosity. That placed a handicap on hi "™es 
sage to start with. Hoiv.ver 1,„ l,„ /■ ■ 
on What a,e the Rights of Mankind? " by nu„ti„„ 
Abraham Lincln, "This country, with ZZ^ 
t.ons, belong, ,, the people w,,„ ,nh„bit „„ ^ '" 

:;ht\'e'°°'V"\'°' '" ""''""■■"« ->' ">^ " " 
though he went on to give certain definitions; first 

of ,,I, the defi„„ion of the word Socialism, as giv» 
hvjhe best and latest diciionaiies: 

" Any theory or system of social organization 
which would abolish entire!,-, or, in great pa he 
.nd,v,dual effort and competition o„Tcir„ 'det 
ocety rests, and substitute for it co-operative ac- 
t™, would i„tro.,uce a „,„re perfect and e,„a7di - 
nbut,on of the products of labor, and would make 
land and cap tal as the instruments and meanTof 
production, the joint possession of the members ^f 
the community." ♦ ^«uoi-rs oi 

"^Jj" "T''- "'°''" ^"""' Mill's definition = 
Socahsm ,s the jo.nt ownership by all members of 
e e„mmun„y of the instrument and means of pro- 
bet™ ; which carries with it ,he consequence Lt 

must be a pubhc act, performed according to rules 
la.d down by the community. S„ci„|i.„ bv no mean 
o^Judes private ownership „f „.Hes of consumT 

•Century Dictionary, 

il ■ 






not need to scare any one, Stanton went on »itl, , 
what U,o nghts of „„n .„„ b,,,d, ,„,, ,„ ^i,;;"^ J 

up to, Chnstmn Socialism could not, by any possi 
b-Lty, mean anything except the r alLZ T 
genuine brotherhood. --eahzatmn of a 

His'^r/*'"' °' """ "" <^"'""''™' »»'' his duties. 
H.S nghts are not seliish preroffatives (!,„„ 
mutual concessions. "ogatnes, they are 

unllT-' ^''T'""' "'■""'"''ood is an i,npos.ibility 
unless ,„ the heart c.ists a love of God, together wfh 
a love of „,„. i„ „,,„ „„^_j^_ ^ ^.^^ beUerJi „t o 
he race ,s .mpossiblo, unless it has „ rfe.-p tL re 
.«.ous basis. To leave out the religious eie lent ," 

dee;:st"wro';t,::^„if;i/,:r'""'^ ""'■ '"- 
Morris on the .narri,,g:':2i:;:t:,:.:;"?i',7 

nage under existing condition, is absurd- ttVlT 


ur fourier Monogamy and private prosperity are 
the ma,„ characteristics of civilisation. Th ind 
v.du.l f„m,ly ,s the u„i, ,f „„ f,„, 3,,i„,i JJ. ™' 
by opposing interests." "les uivided 

sav' flirt'' '""TT"^ ."" '''•°'" "'" P"- r need hardly 

r^e Thorn" H ,'"*■' ''''"«'''>•' ^-'l™'' Mau^ 
nee, Thomas Hughes, and Dr. Lyman Abbott, to- 

«i W--4^] 


«otl,cr .ilh w„„,e„ lil,. ,,i,, „,ill„r<l, .ho believe 
profoundlv ,„ . Cl,ris,:„„ n,.„,h..,.|,„,..,. ,,„ve no I 
>.e» of ,„an.,.ge „„d „,e f,.,„i,, „,„„ „,, „.^,. ^^ 
Chr,sl „„d ,|„ ^.,., T«ta,„o„t. Whatever touches 

':i:,T«"^ "' "'" ^•■""•'^- '-•>« ti'o found,,,-: of 

soc otj 7 he uuTcse of .livorces, the wicked facUity 
«.ll. .luch u,e„ „nd ,vo,„en ,ever the .acred tie. the 
loose and sneering eoneeplion of this relation, Jh c| 
« onlertamed especially by ,ne„ and wome,, of o 
other a„„ ,„ Uf,, ,,„,p, ,„ „„^^^ the.nselves al t i^ 
" "' ^^ 7,7 ^">"' «« Pl" of a Christian Brothe 
hood as hell from heaven. Over 8S,000 divorces 

pabbibty of temper! Think of the enonuity of 

RepubUc?"™^ °"" "' "■' ^°™''"'- »f "- 

"If incompatibility of temper were a just cause 

for divorce, how many marriages would stand the test > 

It .s probably true that during the first few vear, 

people, the majonty of husbands and wives discover 
rtam weaknesses and faults in each other. It i 
also probably true, that a majority of married people 
find ,n certam directions that their taste, diirer,?nd 

patihJiH : '"t ": ■' "" ''""'"' " ""■' '■"—- 

patb,|,ty of te,„per, shall this sacred con,pact-lhe 
."osf »,cred known to hun,an life^he carelessly, pas 
;-'.:.. or cruelly broken, or shall it be the aim' of 
'"■ '■ - und wfc. who have grown to realize, eve. with 


fa j.i 

J? I 




' i<- 

'! i 

Is I 


pain, ll,c« difference, bctw«..„ ,|,o„,, ,„ emphasize 
overtook .„d ,„in,„,;,, ,h,„ ,-„ J •« ^^ 

each other, even .,,i,o „,o, differ; to live .„ JLr . 
fnend,, even wi.on they discover that neither one „ 
en, ,s .„ „„«el. The „urria«e relation i, of , Jl 
tremendous n„port„nee i„ it, he„ri„;j „„ „,e Xlo 
.oc,a Utrueturc that I have no hesitation n ,a, '^^ 
ha .t „ ,„„„;,„, better for „ husband and wy! 

o e they thought they „„„ had for each other is 
"tally g„„,, tban to separate on account of tha L 
even because each thought they .uigh- be happT 
with some one else. I believe among the heroes ™d 
hero.„es, among the saints „f this forhl, iLrbe n 
many and ..,„„y a married couple, .ho lived all the" 

P«t.b,hty, and very many more married people, ,vho. 

™arr,:ih'™™"'' "' ","" "'"'""'''" 4pla iC 
Z ^.P'""'^'' "' '<«•• "'">. »= the years went by 

recovered .t, ,.„d gren- to love each „ther more ,,fd' 
more tn,ly. because they detern,ined each ocelot o 
wreck the greatest relation in life through a weak or 
weked yeldiug , , ,„,,,, p_„^, ,,« ^"""^ - 

The only safe marriages are those of genuine 

d'r rhr"-;'",'""-^ - "-"'^ «"«■- ?"■ - 

mull ; ■''"'"° """ " '^ ""'.'• through 

and forbearance, the marriage relation can be sus- 


taincd in its fullest happiness and power. I repeat, 
the Christiti.i Brotherhood cannot exist on any other 
hasis except that of the sacredness of the family life. 
Any Socialism which contemplates a free society, 
which in any way throws contempt on this relation, 
which anticipates anything different from the Chris- 
tian family, in its one husband for one wife until 
death do them part, such Socialism has no more 
right to be entitled to tho name of Christian than hell 
has any right to fje bounded with the pearly gates of 
the new Jerusalem." 

As he finished this sentence Stanton was aware of 
a commotion in different parts of the hall. Several 
men and women, their faces inflamed witji passion, 
rose and began to go out. In the rear of the hall, 
a largo man, with a voice like tho roar of some 
wild animal, stood up on a seat and waved his arms 
excitedly, asking Stanton some question about mar- 

Stanton stood quiet a moment and then sat down. 
On the platform with him that night were several 
ministers, pastors of the local churches of different 
denominations. They watched him curiously to see 
what he would do in tho face of this new turn of 

The man on the seat shouted out his something with 
a bellow that filled the building. The audience was 
variously affected by what had happened. There 
wnre hisses and applause. Some stood up to see 
the man who was making the disturbance. Others 

pt ' 




o -■ r- 













ST". '653 East Main Street 

5*^ Rochester. Ne* Vcrk 14609 USA 

'-^ (716) 482 - 0300 - Phone 

^S (''6) 238 - 5989 - Fax 

-riiut^ .jrmSki:A»JUsitmm^^ Ji£-' 


• s 




shouted to Stanton, "Go on! Go on! He»8 a 
crank!" Stanton sat like an image. Not a muscle 
quivered, not a sign of movement was visible. The 
man on the seat bellowed until he was hoarse. The 
audience began to hiss at him more and more, and 
Stanton kept his sent, absolutely unmoved. 

Finally, the man, with one more yell, sat down sud- 
denly as If he had been assisted by some one nearby, 
and almost instantly the audience quieted down, until 
not a whisper was audible. Stanton deliberately rose, 
and ma low tone, said good-naturedly, « If the brother 
back there will kindly remain for a few moments after 
the ecture is over, I shall be pleased to answer his 
questions, if I am able. But I do not consider it fair 
to the audience to introduce that feature into the lec- 
ture itself." 

The man tried to shout something, but the audience 
jelled at him to quit, and he subsided. Stanton went 
on and finished the lecture, and, at the close, invited 
any who wished, to remain for a conference of ques- 
tion and answer. 

While those who did not accept his invitation were 
going out, Stanton was touched and deeply helped by 
the warm sympathy of the ministers who had been 
on the platform. They came around him and ex- 
pressed their feelings cordially. 

"I never understood your views until to-night, 
Brother Stanton," said the IVIethodist minister. «I 
want to congratulate you on your Christian soundness. 
I expected something altogether diflferent. Your views 


on the marriage question ought to be preached from 

ever> pulpit in America." 

^^^The Congregational minster shook his hand 

^ "I'm with you, Brother Stanton, on what jou said 
a t,e close of the lecture, on the factor of love as 
twe only foundation on which to build up a structure 
of socml progress. I have read all the current books 
and articles on social reconstruction, and I am sick at 
heart over their omissions of the greatest factor of aV 
the one thing Christ emphasized most. The Lord 

The Baptist, Christian, and Presbyterian ministers 
were also hearty i„ their words of encouragement, and 
Stanton, whose heart was in love with the Church, in 
spite of Samt Cecilia, felt a strange and almost over- 
whelming desire to weep at the evidence of their 
Lnnstian fellowship. 

To his surprise, fully half the audience had 
remained to the conference. He asked the people to 
get together m the middle of the hall, and as soon as 
they were quiet he called for the man who wanted to 
ask questions about marriage. 

Some one down near the door laughed 
"That was StoUwitz. He works in the roller mills. 
His wife came after him just at the close of the meet- 
-g. and he followed her out as meek as a lamb." 

or tT ^°\*'^' ""' *° ^'^ ^""^'^ ''' '■"«"<>-' ^'•-nd, 
or tell me where to find him.^" asked Stanton. A 





workingman down near the platform said he knew, 
and gave Stanton the address. 

The conference went on for an hour. A majority 
of the Eudience were workingmen. They put such 
questions as these: 

"Do you believe in trade-unions?" 

" Is marriage oftener a failure with the rich than 
with the poor ? " 

"You said the Sabbath was being desecrated more 
and more by the working people of America. How 
about those big corporations like railroads, cement, 
and oil works, and large mills that run every day in 
the week, and make it impossible for thousands of 
working people to have one day of rest in seven ? " 

"Wouldn't the churches get nearer the workers if 
they abolished pew-rents, and paid their preachers no 
more than average labor is paid ? " 

"If one reason the workingmen spend so much 
money for beer, is the wretched condition of the aver- 
age tenement, bad cooking, and so forth, how about 
the men who own the tenements, some of whom are 
church members .'' " 

" Isn't it a fact that most of the divorces you spoke 
of were among well-to-do people, not among the 
poor or average workers ? " 

"To what extent did Charles Kingsley, Thomas 
Hughes, and Frederick Maurice believe in socialism? " 

" Do you think the negro is entitled to all the rights 
of a citizen ? " 

"Last January, February, and March, of 1902, 



300 employees were klHcd, and 2834; injured in rail- 
road accidents in this country-. During those three 
months 1650 trains were in collision, and 1181 trains 
were derailed. Adding the accidents sustained by 
railroad employees in shops, due to machinery, there 
was a total, during the three months, of 827 killed, 
and 11,481 injured. Do you think it is fair to sup- 
pose that most of these fatalities were caused by 
carelessness on the part of men at work ? It is a 
fact that more men are killed by machinery every 
year in America than were killed during the entire 
Boer War. Who is most to blame for it ? " 

" If the scab insists on his right to work anywhere, 
and for any wages he pleases, without joining any 
Union, even, if in doing so, he robs my wife and chil- 
dren of bread, am I to love him? Is it not asking too 
much of human nature to do that.?" 

This is sufficient to give some idea of the kind of 
questions that poured in on Stanton for an hour. The 
people were for the most part good-natured, and evi- 
dently wanted to get honest answers to fair queries. 
When Stanton finally asked them to join him in a 
prayer at the close, there was a respectful quiet. 
Several men came up to shake hands, even at that 
la' hour. One of them, a modest, quiet-appearing 
mui., about Stanton's own age, gave his name as 

" Arc you the Colfax who has organized those new 
grocery stores in this part of the State?" Stanton 
asked, with great interest. 


i Si 
1 1| 



» i I 

! . 


.«•,,'> 'm. 


" I expect I am. Would be glad to see you and get 
-ore hght," Colfax said .nodestly. «« Can't you com 
around m the morning ? " 

S1,Iim'' ^ .^^,''"/^ ^'''"^'^" to-morrow evening. 
aiiaJl 1 come m the forenoon .f* " 

Colfax nodded, and gave Stanton his card. The 
next mornmg Stanton found himself in Colfax's little 





'VE heard of your plan, Mr. Colfax. I'm 

interested. Tell me about it." 

"I don't claim anything great or original In 
my business," Colfax answered modestly. «My 
father was a very rich man, as perhaps you know 
But I couldn't see that his money gave him any com- 
fort. The year before he died, during the great 
panic of '57, he lost everything, and I began life as 
a poor boy. I clerked it in a grocery store for ten 
years, and saved up enough in that time to start on 
my own account. The first rule I made for myself 
was this : I never want to get rich in business. I've 
added to that rule the following, which for the last 
eight years have worked out well: 

^ " Business for the day closes promptly at six 
o clock. 

" AH employees are paid In full at the close of 
each day. 

I' All transactions are cash, and no books arc kepf 
'All goods are sold at cost after $2.50 profits for 
the day has been made. 

" There is no delivery service. 

'' Premises personally guarded against fire to save 
the amount of insurance premium. 







Iff 9^ '1 

^D-'i^—xsaM'^e. «43f-_ 


stock!"" ^'^"°''' ''*^^"' °' *°^^"° "' """^d >■" 

" To the poor, all goods are sold at cost at all 

"You may be interested, Mr. StanLon, in the fol- 
lowing n^sults. I have now fifteen stores, the daily 
prohts ot winch are $2.50; annual profits, 313 work- 
ing days, are $782.50. Annual profits of all t',e 
stores are $11,731.50. These profits are distributed 
partly ,„ helpmg the poor ; partly in opening new 
stores. That's about all." ^ 

"But I hear you are having some trouble with the 
trade-unions. How is that?" 
Colfax smiled slightly. 

"It's true. They began to boycott me a month 
ago bee use clerks were not men.bers of the Union. 
At first I lost considerable trade. Then people heard 
of it, and began to rush me so that I couldn't wait on 
us o^ers, and I made a new rule." He pointed to a 
card over the counter, which read, "Hep yourself 

and leave the money at the desk" " ^' . 

„^. 1 . ,, -^ uf~i>K. \ou see every 

articles ,„ the store is .nnrked i„ p|„i„ fij,„„,, jj^ J_ 

■ng pnce I think I have lost a ver, little ^v L 

method through the dishonest, of . fe. ^,,1 " ' 

.t doesn't beg,n to compare with the losses he ave ,. " 

grocer sustains ever, da, through careless e.t a t 

gance and lack of saving habits. The store . Ube 

crowded all da, to-da,. But Til have to move „u on 

account „f the owner of the building. Th VnZ 

threaten, to bo,cott him, and he clain,f he can't^rand 



I'm not able tc buy, and shall 

the pressure, 

"Will your 
trouble ? " 

"I don't think 


s join the Union to avoid 



Colfax answered quietly. 
" Two of them have already been attacked by members 
of the Union on the strett. It isn't likely they will 
join an organization that employs such methods. I 
can't urge them to do so, just to save me. Besides, I 
don't brieve in that way of doing busuiess. For the 
last five years I have sold goods to the members of 
the trade-unions in this city at cost. They now turn 
against me with a boycott, because my clerks do not 
belong to the Union. I don't hate them, you under- 
stand, Mr. Stanton. But my convictions are such 
that I shall continue to do business on the same plan, 
and hire my clerks anywhere from the most honest, 
reliable men I can find. I don't claim, either, that my 
plan of doing business will bring in the millennium. 
B ., • '-now that I am a far happier man than my 
f" with his great wealth, and also hope that a 

g< : y other people are made happier by my 

metnuus. How the matter between t/ie Unions and 
myself will come out, I don't know. Time will settle 
that. But I am a great believer in human progress, 
and I believe the members of tne Unions will, in time, 
use other methods to gain their ends." 

Stanton left him, impressed with the man's modest 
sincerity, and musing over his statement about being 
happier than his father. " Truly, it is a great fact," 




'-•/^^jS "^t <■ 





he said to himself, as he went down towards the roller 
mills, near which Stollwitz lived, " that as Jesus said, 
• A man's life does not consist of the abundance of 
thuigs that he possesses.' 'Mai. shall not live by 
bread alone.' If what we are after is happiness, how 
foolishly we stumble and strive after it, learning 
nothing, apparently, from the mistakes and troubles 
of those who have made history in vain for us." 

It was his keen sense of justice that sent him down 
into the neighborhood of the roller mills, to find this 
workman who had disturbed his meeting. What was 
one poor laborer more or less? Yet, Stanton groping 
h.s way toward a deepe sympathy and quicker ap- 
prehension in all tilings that belong to the life of man, 
was rapidly growing more charitable in his judgments 
of all sorts and conditions of men. 

He found the number of Stollwitz's house, and 
knocked at the door, not expecting to see the man 
himself, for he had been told that he worked on the 
night shift, and would probably be asleep. But, to his 
surprise, the man himself opened the door, and stood 
m the narrow passage-way staring at him. 

" I'm Mr. Stanton, the man v,ho was trying to talk 
last night, while you were trying to do the same 
thing," said Stanton, with a smile. «I came down 
here to find out what it was you wanted to ask, as 
you didn't stay for the after-meeting." 

The man stared so long and hard that Stanton was 
in great doubt as to his sanity. But suddenly he 
burst into a roar of laughter, and putting out a hand 



that looked, for size arul shape, hke a sugar-cured 
ham, he said, in a voice that a vegetable vender would 
have considered worth half the season's profits- 

" ^y "*t^r Stanton ! Con.e in, sir ! I'm honored and 
dehghted!" He drag, .d Stanton through a narrow 
hall, mto a small, but astonishingly- neat room, at one 
end of which a small woman was frying something on 
a stove. ** 

"Katherine, Dr. Stanton-the author of The 
Christian Socialist." 

Katherine wiped her hands on her apron, and shook 
hands shyly, but without anj other mark of embar- 
rassment. Stollwitz pointed to a chair, and seemed to 
be profoundly pleased. He laughed and made great 
noises that were like a mingling of foreign languages 
and an attempt to swallow something out of a pitcher. 
At last, Stanton noting the preparations for a meal 
that was going on, said : 

"Mr Stollwitz, I did not mean to interrupt your 
breakfast, but » f j ^ir 

"Interrupt! Mj friend, that breakfast will not be 
interrupted. Sit up with us. Katherine, are you 
ready.? Shall I oj the door.?" 

His wife nodde. .s she set some dishes down on 
the table, and Stollwitz went to a door at the other 
end, unlocked it, and opened it, and there poured out 
and into the room, as if released from pn...ssure behind, 
five children, whose names the big mechanic gave to 
btanton, as the owno.. of them gravely went up to 
urs and stood by V ^m. "Children, this is 




Dr Fredrick Stanton, .ho ha, honored u, extremely 
b^; h,. v„„. Gertrude, Luther, Han,, Wil|i.„, Rath^ 

Z-Jr'"-''-'"-^— .-^.hcgr^cetht 

All the funuly stood up around the table, and the 
^J.^ ,eUo.-haired youth, of .ome twehe ,ea„! 

"For aU the bleMing, of the night. 
For all the merejes of the light 
Father, we thank llice for Ihem .11. 
Be with us tm the •hsdow, f,l|. Amen." 

before he knew it, Stanton „., seated with the „"t 
«lo„„hed to find himself, i„,tead of in the pre,e„ee 
of one of the sullen, blacant specimen, of foreign life 

Clisl:r " '" '"'"• ■■" '"^ '-'* »' » '-' 

silii!"," ""f *T '" ""'"'^ '"^- ™y ^<" »M 

What would you think, sir, I was with Herr :tau- 
ber , family ,ome time ago, and one of hi, boy,, just 
home from college, a,ked the grace, and he said, 'O 
Lord have mercy on these victual, !' but Stauber 

aJwTu •*" *""' '"^•""■"« """S with that. 
And his table is not any too weU provided for at any 

Stanton began to think he should never get around 
to the question StoUwitz had tried to ask^he light 
before. The novelty of the situation appealed to Wm 

.-.*.-_ ^ . - —■ 

■mc-i^^i :--m 


and ho tlu,n, enjov..! .verv n.iuu.., althouKl. ho 
1""' almulv ha<l one L.vakfas^ at the houl 

. "^y?;"-;'''^''.''Mr..Stolhv.t..sauli„a,,auso.clur- 
|".-h,ch ,;j- 

<m to work at ...idni^^ht, and does his eight hours 
l^^^w,. ;...usuall, lato about g^-ing hack this 

" Hi he non-un.on nan. A.h ! Why c-annot „,en h^vo 
l.kobrethrenMtrv to preach it. Thev Ver: 
few does anvtning n.ore!" He put a Hst on the tabfe „as as b,g as a loaf of brown biead, and the 
-wdlest clnld, Katherine. regarded it with big-ey d 

"But the question. What did you want to ask 
rot erP'V.,, Stanton. " Pardon .e, but I tLXl' 
OHO :^ou an apology. I thought you were one of those 
.nen who try to break up a n.eeting with useless .r..- 
ments. I know, now, that you are not that .ind." 
He s,mled at the fan.ily circle, and with that sn,... he 
cuugM the aJFe.tions, forever, of the entire, s.;. 
deep-hearted household of Franz Stollwitz 

"Well, Dr. Stanton, all I wanted to ask was " 

He broke down with his big laugh, as if it had an 
explosne quality in it that had the properties of dyna- 
;- e and exerted its force in all directions equ^;;,. 
All I wanted to ask was if you were married your- 
-li, and knew what you were talking about frol 

f < 







actual knowledge. Would that have broken up the 

"I'm afraid it would," said Stanton, laughing, 
while Mrs. Stollwitz eyed her big husband reproach- 

"Well, when the crowd yelled sit down, and called 

me crank, that raised one crop of dander on me, and 

I tned to make my question heard, but the people 

around me were fools, and then I forgot my English, 

and talked German, so you did not understand. When 

I get excited, sometimes, I forget all English. Then 

I need a— what you cfill 'cm— an interrupter. Then 

Katrina pulled my coat, and I went away." 

"She was a good interrupter," said Stanton with a 

" Yah," said Franz gravely. « Katrina knows when 
It IS good to keep still. Rut how about that, Dr. Stan- 
ton .? Re you one married man } " 

" Indeed I am, friend, and very happily so. I have 
her picture here, and I am willing to have you judge 
It she i» not the sweetest-faced woman in the world " 

He took out the little case with its photograph, that 
he had told Mildred he would always carry with him 
on h,s lecture trips, and it was passed from hand to 
hand, provokmg exclamations of delight. Stollwitz 
nodded gravely. 

« Ach ! You have a right to make a few remarks on 
the question of marriage. She is one handsome 
woman. She is of the Lord, my friend." 

"Thank you," said Stanton, deeply touched. All 

■"**»-. -^_. 



through thar sLnple ,neal it seomccl to him that he had 
been drawn.g near so.„othi„. olen.entall.v sin.ple, and 
a ho san.e tune fundan.ental. It struck iL that and h.s fa„.ily nu^l.t be of the .stuff that 
ep.cs are woven out of, and that those vellou-haired, 

r her hentage for blessing than the sons and daugh- 
ters of the upper circles, where simplicity and ele- 
mental virtues have been choked and killed by tl e 
artificial customs of society. 

When he rose to go away, Stollwitz pulled a book 
out of a little shelf behind the door 

"We road your book aloud, Dr. Stanton, Katrina 
-d . It helped us. I .ould have stayed lust night 
to tell you so, but the troubles at the mills made it 
..oedful for me to go to n,y place earlier. That is 
Hhut Katrina came to call me about. God bless you. 
l ome and see us again." 

Ho shook l,a„,k licartib- «ith all the members of 

he fnm,Iy, ami „he„ l,e to bahy Katherine, ho 

k.»sed hor, wh,le the tears eame into the eyes of bi« 

^ ollw,,. „„d ,„-s „,.f, T|,oy ..atehed him until h! 

ttafcmg God f„r the little ehapter that had become I 
part of the book of his own life 

His engageinents took him away from Lenox for 
nearly two weeks, and when he returned one evening, 
he came home with a varied experience that he antict 
pated telhng to his wife. On the whole, the people had 
received lum kindly, and !:e had some reason to be W 



that his message had met with a response from the 
people. There had been some opposition. At one or 
two places people in the audience, angered at his 
plain statements, had gone out of the meeting, and 
others had let him feel their opposition by means of 
letters or speech. But for the most part, the signs of 
a growing promise for the growing Brotherhood 
seemed bright to him, and he rejoiced with a glow of 
hope in the good report he was able to make to his 

The minute he got out of the train at Lenox he 
was aware of some very unusual disturbance in the 
town. The air was charged with high excitement. 
Looking over into the great public square near the 
passenger depot, he was thrilled at the sight of a 
dense mob gathered about a negro, who was standing 
on a great pile of wood, which seemed to be composed 
of railroad ties, pieces of sidewalk, broken drygoods 
boxes and barrels. 

At the foot of this pile an insane mob surged like 
demons, striking at the negro's figure with clubs, axes, 
bars from piping torn from the little depot flower- 
garden plot. Other men were pouring something on 
the wood at the negro's feet. 

"What is it?" Stanton asked of no one in par- 
ticular. The horror of a deep inhuman act struck 
him with a chill of intense numbing pain. He had a 
sudden nausea, and his temples throbbed heavily. 

" They are going to burn him alive, and serve him 
right," the station-master said, with an oath. 




" They shall not do it if there is a God in heaven ! " 
Stanton leaped off the platform edge and ran across 
the flower-plot towards the scene. As he ran, he 
sobbed to himself, « It is Christian America ! O God, 
for Christ's sake, forbid it. They know not what 
they do!" 






ij--.»:grTBj '---ntjlj] 



THE next moment Stanton had fought his way 
into the mob and was pleading with it, nc* 

mand Z "' "''"'^' ^"'"'^*^"^' threatening, L- 

mandmg He was astounded to note in the crowd 
some of th^ most prominent business and professional 
men ,n Lenox, swept off their feet bj the frenzy of 
the mob spjnt. 0,.e of these men roughly shoved 
Stanton as,de as he flung an armful of wood down on 
the awful p,le rising around the negro, who was 
chamed to a street-car rail. 

"He murdered a white man and woman down on 
the nood road behind the mills, Dr. Stanton " 

«I didn't do it! I am not guilty!" shrieked the 
poor wretch, wnthin^ i„ the chain that had been 
wound around his body. And as Stanton gazed on 
him, he recognized the negro who had fought for life 
the night of the riot between the union and non- 
union men. 

"Let the courts do their work! Don't murder an 
.nnocent man ! " shouted Stanton. His voice was like 
Lit .n .1,0 midst of the felling demons in tha 
hell-possessed square. Some one flung a lighted news- 
paper on the 0,1-so.kcd wood. It biased up at once. 




and the negro screamed in a cry so frightful that for 
a moment those nearest his figure fell hack 

Stanton flung himself on the blaze, and with feet 
and han s scattered the pieces of wood, crving aloud 

c our e Th 7 "" ''' "^" '"^ ''' ''' '^^^ ^^'^ '*« 

iT k S T'f """"'' ^' ""^ ^^"^»'* «"d flung 

back. Several strong arms held him, while the mob 

thre. the fagots around the wretch and sot them afire 
aga.n. As the blaze curled up around his feet a p sto 
si-t rang „,,, then a second and a third. The negro' 
head dropped his bod, sank down, an inert n.assi.eld 
up by he Cham, and the flames and smoke rolled 

That was all Stanton remembered, mercifully for 
hm. untd he ca„,e to himsel/, to find that he was lyin. 
on the grass-plot of the railroad flower-park witS 
Harvey bendmg over him. Afterwards he learned 
that Harvey had dragged him out of the crowd in a 
t^mting condition and perhaps saved his life 

Han-ey was kneeling between Stanton and the 
sn^ouldenng heap of nameless horror in the square 
The mob was fighting to get up to that awful heap to 
secure souvenirs of the evening. 

fh " ^"'f.^'' ^""^ "'" *"^' ^'^Soar^cc on the people for 
this night's dreadful deed," groaned Stanton feebly 
If there is a God," replied Harvey rouo-hly "I 
W my doubts about it. But you've do^e'your 

" It has not availed anything," Stanton exclaimed 





faintly "Rut I believe in a God if you don't, Har- 
vey and I know he will viait this city with punish- 
ment for this outrage." 

"The man and woman were killed by some one do-n 
on the Wood road, and the negro was found near the 
8cene under suspicious circumstances. Some one had 
to be sacrificed to the desire for vengeance » 

'♦I believe he was innocent," groaned Stanton. 

His guiltless blood will cry out against us from the 

ground. And think of the eyes that have been ruined 

by the sight of this horror. How can they ever 

behold any thing pure or holy again ! " 

" Come on home, Stanton. You can't do anything, 
more here. Are you fit to walk.P" Harvey helped 
him to his feet and went home with him, Stanton, all 
the way, nanging his head in shame for Lenox, and 
.^hen Mildred greeted him he broke down under ♦he 
strain as she put her arms about him and mingled her 
griet with his over the awful event. 

To the credit of the Lenox Times next day, it de- 

ZTl ^.r'*"" °' '^' ""^ ^" ' ^^"S"-- editorial, 
and called attention to the fact that if the after-facts 
should prove the ^ :ctim to be innocent, he w ,ld be 
the nineteenth negro to be lynched within six months 
withm the United States, eleven of whom were inno- 
cent of the crime attributed to them. " Even suppos- 
ing this man to be guilty," the editorial continued, 
the mob spirit is the mark of barbarism. It is, how- 
ever becoming alarmingly common. There is no 
doubt the courts are largely to blame for it The 

k >•*! 

'^ ._.. 




law's delays have been noforlous. Espcciallv is it true 
that justice has often been defeated, and guilty 
men permitted to go free when the accused has been a 
person of wealth or influence. This fact i., no doubt 
responsible to a large degree for the presence of the 
mob in American life to-daj. The people have grown 
to have a deep distrust of the regular court proceed- 
ings. The remedy for Lynch law is an incorruptible 
court which acts promptly, not depriving any man of 
a fair opportunity to prove his innocence, but without 
permitting delays on technical points of law, and upon 
convictions, at once meting out punishment in keeping 
with the crime." 

Stanton rested quietly at home during the day, 
heartsore over tV disgrace and shame that had fallen 
on the town. After supper Harvey called, with news 
of serious nature. 

"It's as you said. Dr. Stanton. The negro was 
innocent. The guilty man was found late this after- 
noon by Sheriff Johns, who was absent last night in 
Anson county. If he had been here the mob would 
not have been possible, I believe. You know Johns. 
He's 'he best sheriff we ever had. The minute news 
came of the murder on the Wood road, he started out. 
He got a clue that took him over into Anson county. 
Sheriff Raines joined him, and the man was brought 
to bay in a barn. He confessed his guilt, but shot 
himself dead before he could be caught. That's the 
story that all the town is talking over to-night. If 
it's true " 

I- If] 


i> p -r 



"If it's true," Stanton cxclnlmod, as iie walked up 
and down in front of Harvey, ^' this town is guilty of 
u fearful crime before God. 'Vengeance is mine, I 
will repay, saith the Lord.' " 

" The Lord is the only one who will repay," mut- 
tered Harvey. 

'• Do you mean to say," exclaimed Mildred in horror 
a* Harvey's inferc^ce, "that this negro's murder will 
go unpunished in the courts? Why, father is Judge 

of the Di»trict Court. Do you mean ? " 

"Your father is the soul of honor, Mrs. Stanton," 
said Harvey quietly. "He is the fairest judge in 
some ways that ever sat on the bench. And yet, you 
will pardon me for saying it, he has repeatedly, in the 
course of his long service in the District Court, per- 
mitted laws delayed on technicalities, where he might 
and should lawfully have ruled for a swifter and surer 
justice. Resides, in this case, the judge is powerless 
if the County Attx)rney does not bring action. And if 
any one supposes that County AUorney Paley will 

ever bring any action against the mob " 

He left his sentence unfinished with a contempt that 
was deeper than words could make it, and Stanton 
gravely eyed him and his wife, conscious that Harvey 
spoke the truth. 

"Do.vs any one wonder," said Harvey gloomily, 
" that some of us want to see a different order of soci- 
ety in the world from the one we've got now? Will 
you say, Stanton, that under the present monopolistic, 
plutocratic rule the people get justice in any large 




quantity? The men arnuncJ poor Hill Warren last 
night, some of them were among the host known men 
in Lenox. You sec if any of them arc ever arrested 
for this crime. Yet if some poor striker breaks a law, 
he's jacked up without any delay and punished to the 
limit. J. B. Wrightam breaks a dozen laws of the 
State every day of his life, and no one interferes. 
That's because he's a millionaire. He drives his auto- 
mobile through the streets of Lenox twice as fast as 
the ordinance says is lawful, but who ever heard of his 
being arrested.'' If I were to drive a horse a fraction 
beyond the speed allowed, you know I would hear 
from it quick enough. It is just such facts that make 
Socialists. And the lawless rich will have themselves 
to blame one of these days if they wake up some fine 
morning to a new order of things, in which they shall 

be obliged to obey the laws or suffer the consequences." 
" It will never be along the track of compulsion or 

hatred. Brother Harvey." 

" I don't care along what track it comes, so long as 

it gets here," Harvey replied, as he got up to go. 

" But you mark my prophecy. XoL a man that helped 

murder Bill Warren will ever suffer for it from Lenox 


" ' Vengeance is mine, I will repay,' saith th^ Lord," 

murmured Stanton sadly, as Harvey went out. " The 

world is in the hands of a just God. If not now, 

inevitably, sometime, every evil deed of selfish men 

shall receive its just punishment." 

" I'd like to see some of it handed out now," said 



i-f If 




f i 


Harvej with his grim smile. " I'm tired of waiting 
for eternity to even things up." 

"God hus waited longer than you have!" replied 
Stanton a little sternly. lUr\ey stared and seemed 
about to answer, but finally went away without 

Next morning the Lenox Times had a full story of 
Sheriff Johns and his attempted capture of the real 
criminal. There was no doubt that the mob had mur- 
dered an innocent man. The Tima called for action 
on the part of Paley, the County Attorney, and vig- 
orously declared that the town and county were dis- 
graced unless something was done. It spoke in high 
praise of Dr. Stanton's conduct, and urged its readers 
to denounce mob rule and stand together for law and 

The following Sunday several pulpits in Lenox 
spoke out plainlv, and called on the courts and author- 
ities to take aeon against the mob. Stanton himself, 
by invitation from one of the ministers, preached 
that Sunday on the all-absorbing topic. Never had 
he been so effective. A vast audience crowded the 

It was deeply moved by his eloquent appeal for a 
social righteousness. Apparently his words carried 
deep conviction. Hundreds stayed after the service 
to thank him for his message, and assure him of their 
hearty belief in the truth of what lie said. 

Yet it is simply matter of plain history of this caae 
in Lenox, in the year of our Lord, 1903, and in 

i •^■<r«S"">c- aiB>o»'"w«™a8' Jk-c .• 'a' ""v 



so-cftlled Christian America, nothing was ever done 
really to bring the murderers of Bill Warren, the 
negro, to trial. The County Attorney went through 
the form of arresting a fvw people, but the cases were 
finally dismissed for lack of evidcr ; and even in the 
face of an indignation meeting called by Stanton and 
a fe\ public-spirited men, the fiircc of justice wa» 
fully played out by the County Attorney, and not one 
man of the hundreds guilty of that awful crime was 
ever punished by the laws of man. This is a matter 
of history which is not denied. And the place of it is 
not Turkey or Macedonia, with its heathen and un- 
christian atrocites, but Christian America, with its 
churches, schools, colleges, ni.d culture, inheriting its 
wealth of Pilgrim and Puritan conviction. Is it true, 
think you, young and thoughiful citizens of the 
United States, that the age of deep convictions has 
gone, ana that we are living in an age of selfish greed 
and political graft, so intense that one man like this 
County Attorney of Lenox county, a man devoid of 
patriotic sense and of reverence for law, drawing his 
pay as the main thing in his office, practically stands 
a thing of colossal insult to the State to thwart the 
majesty of justice, and with cowardly wickedness 
pour contempt and shame on the principles for which 
the framers of the Declaration of Independence 
pledged their lives their fortunes, and their sacred 

Whatever you may think about it, the facts remain 
grim and unchanged. Let every lover of his country. 


: 1 


ftnd cv. ry liolitviT in the \nw am] Its tnforromcnt, 
r.oto tlio fncts on his knors, holding up his hands 
before God in prayer, that a new generation may arise 
with a righteous zeal for a Christian Republic In 
reality as well as in name. 

How much this event contributed to deepen Stan- 
ton's co'^victions in the line of his belief in social rev- 
olution, it would be difficult to say. Undoubtallv it 
intensified his feelings and added to his passionate 
''.sire for a new patriotism. This found expression 
ir his next public address in Chicago. He was called 
there by the Municipal League, and the Auditorium 
was packed to hear him. It was a representative audi- 
ence, composed of Labor, Capital, professional and 
business men, all interested in his theme, most of them 
drawn by curiosity to see the author of The Christian 
Socialist; some hostile to him, others indifferent, but 
all, for the time being, more or less roused by the 


STANTON began by stating the subject of the 
evening's address : 
" I have been asked," he said, " to outline the 
programme of Christian Socialism. It is useless for 
me to make even a beginning toward what I want to 
say unless the first principles on which a proposed 
social order rest are plainly understood. 

"I wish it to be distinctly understood, thrrcforc, 
that I do not attempt to bring into this discussion 
any other economic theories than those which have 
been so plainly stated in the Bible, and especially in 
the New Testament. A good many people are 
frightened at the sound of the very word Socialism, 
But I wish to announce in this talk to-night th '„ 
according to my view, and that of hundreds and thou- 
sands of far better Christians than myself, the terra 
Christiari Socialism is nothing but a term which 
means that if the plain teachings of the Son of God 
were obeyed in human society, the world would begin 
to enjoy a peace, a strength, a prosperity, a brother- 
hood, such as it does not now know. If this is true, 
as I firmly believe it is, then the statements I am 
about to make are simply and forever based on the 
teachings of Jesus, and are not any new or striking 


i '' 


•3 it 


8! i^' 


or original contribution to the Social Problem, only 
the direct application of divine laws to human needs, 
as old as creation, but made clear and specific bj Him 
who came on purpose to give men life abundantly. 

"The programme of Christian Socialism, there- 
fore, may be stated under the following heads : 

" 1. Before anything like a Christian Social order 
among men is possible, men must be Christian. 

"It is not enough that they be merely good men, 
that is, men who are moral or who never commit 
crime. They must be men who are filled with the 
spirit of Christ, intelligent, well-poised, self-sacrific- 
ing, loving their enemies, ready to forgive wrongs, 
strong to endure, patient, calm, making it the busi- 
ness of their lives to seek first the Kingdom of God. 
There is no real hope of establishing the Christian 
Social order with any other human material. 

"2. If this proposition is true, it foUows that 
making laws or trying to establish legislative rules to 
govern society will not, in itself, be enough to bring 
about an ideal social order among men. Men them- 
selves need first of all to be right before they will 
live right. This does not ignore the fact that sur- 
roundings or environment may have their influence in 
shaping men's moral or religious conditions. But 
merely to attempt to improve men's physical condi- 
tions and ignore their spiritual needs, as if all had 
been done when the body has been well-clothed, fed, 
and housed, is to ignore the fact that men in all the 
centuries who have had the best environment, but 



whose hearts have been sinful, are among tlie most 
unhappy and sinful men in the world's history. Hav- 
ing money, living in a big house, eating rich food, 
being educated, all this does not mean happiness or 
power. If what the world of labor is after to-day is 
more money, more food, better houses, more things, 
as if these things would bring happiness, then it will 
miss the mark, and even if by a legislative revolution 
it should gain all these things but still remain 
unchanged in the heart, the world will be not better 
off than it is now. In fact, if all the people who are 
now living in tenements, all the people who are work- 
ing at hard labor, all the people who are poor and in 
debt and worn out with the struggle for existence, 
should be able to exchange their condition with the 
rich, go into their houses, have their money to spend, 
and be released from the conditions which they now 
regard as bitter, the world would not be any better 
off, unless the people who benefited by the physical 
change were also changed at heart. The good house, 
the fine clot es, the money, the surroundings, would 
not in themselves necessarily make any of these people 
any happier, any more useful, or more of value to 
society. It would be bread, but it would be bread 
alone. And ' man shall not live b3' bread alone.' Out 
of the heart proceed all the evil things of the world. 
The rich are as miserable as the poor if their hearts 
are not right with God. Christian Socialism simply 
repeats the command of Jesus, ' Seek ye first the 
Kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these 



be'^fr;""' "• ""' P*"^''*^"' "•ings ,„u need-shall 
be added u.- , ;,„„.■ The Soeialism whieh say, -seek 
first better wages, seek first ™re money, seek te 
how to get the better of your enemies, seok'first rad . 
un,on,sm, seek first how to down Capitalism or how to 
enact laws against human selfishness,' this Social! 
no matter what else it may be, is not Christia! T el' 

"3. This does not mean that Christian Socialism 
has no defimte aim or pc.pose in the matter of chan; 
2 unjust or unhappy physical conditions of soc ety 
^y man who really is seeking first God's Kingdom'; 
Will do all m his power to make the physical life 
as comfortable and happy as he can R^ If 

rhrUf.'a^ 1 . • « "^ • -oecause the 

Chnst an makes h,s first object in life the building 
up „ the Kmgdom of God, is the best possible rea o! 
»l y he ,s the one kind of a man in the whole world to 
help successfully to establish a just and hapj ^il 
cond,t,on Christian Socialism, therefore, MeveTrn 
the followmg practical measures : 

"4- Christian Socialism believes in the common 
ownersh^ or control of al, the world's grearner 

transportation, local and general- oil ^„,l f j 
-ecr, light, telegraph, '.p" L I'd pll.' 
co„ven,enees. Such common necessitL as ice. Zla 
n k medicne, etc., could easily be furnished '?>« 

:r:^:h^:i:src:istfT' '"■'---' 

«"y i-niistian. I was present in 



the London Common Council one day, wlien Lord Car- 
rington rose and made a statement concerning the cost 
of gas to the poor of London, as furnished by the 
London Gas and Coke Company, an absolutely monop- 
olistic concern. The company charged the poor of 
London nine pence more per thousand feet of gas 
than they charged him, Lord Carrington. Talking 
with Lord Carrington afterwards, he declared his 
abhorrence of any such injustice and prophesied a 
final socializing of such a common necessity as light 
for »e people. The difference in price was on ac- 
count of the difference in quantity of gas consu.iied. 
Yet, certainly, if any one needed to have the balance 
on his side it was the poor man, not the peer. In a 
Christian social order a man's need of a common neces- 
sity would be a large factor to consider in the matter 
of price charged him for it. In the existing order, 
the man's need is not taken into the account, only his 
ability to order a large quantity and pay for it. 

"In general. Christian Socialism would socia::",- all 
common needs, on the principle that it is universally 
good social economy to do so. We have already 
socialized the post-office, the public schools, the fire 
department, the ligl;ting and heating of town and 
cities, the common roads, the public buildings, the 
public parks, and many other forms of public need. 
We are all Socialists in the matter of the post-office, 
even if it does not pay expenses; even if there are 
frauds and irregularities and dishonesty connected 
with its management. The people wiU see to the 






righting of those abuses, as it i. ho" i 

«-ho would ever wish to nl n ^'^ '^°"'' ^"^ 

hands of a pr vare tr. t f V" ^'''''^'' '" *J- 

cSw ?^ ?f ^'T ""''^^ ^^'*- ^^^^^^^ "^- 

-ry or just than thel phv ' al a'nd T"' """■ 
•"ent in other directio^ 2 T "' "°"''"^^- 

unscrupulous landior^l ^ ^hlnTT T' 
tenements, the people who have to f . ^""^ 

will suffer an in^„.H , .^ ^ ^'''^ ^" ^^^^ments 

made subt ,0 Tnrf' "7 """■•"■' ^''°"''' "»' ^' 
suoject to individual m-eed TJia ,.• w 

property are not greater thfn the rTi Its of 
Thej are second, not first. ^ ™^"- 

"5 It follows as a natural order of hpl.Vf ,u . 
Christian Socialism does not believe in tl 

acquisition of large personal f P'''°""^ 

<•> . o pi^rsonal fortunes. Thw a.jj 

irom two reasons Jf +i loJlows 

-orld were orid , " «™' "^^'^'''^^ "' «- 
people, it „.„„M b:'; ^b r"™" P^P-*^ -^ the 

n'nUons or „„„e, /orE /"L^T r;,' '° ^■'-- 
men who live undnr tl,. " ^"'^ ^^^^ of 


to use the money for e-onr? .. • . ^ "^'"'"S 


the general good in such a way as to add to the 
general .welfare of the world, as if the same 
amount of wealth were distributed through the lives 
of the thousands of people who have toiled with either 
hand or brain to make that wealth. In the second 
place, the individual millionaire is not so happy or 
so useful a man as the one who has simply enough for 
the necessary development of his life. The happiest 
people in the world are neither the very poor nor the 
very rich. Too great poverty means misery. Too 
great wealth means the same. As a general thing, 
the unhappiest and most discontented people all over 
the world, are the people at the extremes of society. 
The golden means of happiness does not depend on 
gold for its cause. It is a naturally eternal result 
of causes which are always the same and always will 
be. To restrict a man's personal wealth, create an 
order of society making it impossible for a man ever 
to become a millionaire, would be no injustice ; it would 
be the beginning of happiness to countless men who 
now heap up riches, and, after getting them, have no 
pleasure in them. It is eternally true, as Jesus said, 
' A man's life does not consist in the abundance of the 
things that he possesses.' It is also his teaching that 
man should not lay up for himself treasures on the 
earth. Some Christians believe this command applied 
only to the Christians in Jesus' own lifetime, and was 
not intended for a rule of life for all time. I wish +o 
say that I myself differ ''•om this view, and believe 
Jesus meant the command to extend in comprehensive 



nianner over hII fl.o ^^ l • 

greater power devL ? T"' """''' ■•«"" «>u..r' ;'t,?;::r'' """ "''""" - -^ 
caned. dr.p^„;?:r~;-''--^= 

-ade to tl,e Brit.r.a "'""■"""« P™P°*°- -' 

the Brmi aI:.^;:. r'^:';^r«"''«'<'7befor» 

caled the grant bv tl,e „ ' '''''^'' ■•' «*"- 

a»- That i Turr. ■""'■°" '■" ««»' Brit- 

the British navf '""°""' '''™' '"'* ^'" °" 

col?„:i^;::;t ad?'"*"' *■" °^'°''- ^. '903. 

W,er),!;itrr:t;S-^^.;f (SirN„r«a„ 
all in buildings and J ' "'' P"' '* ""■=' for 

po™.ne„.,''x;t: ,:""«::! :f" ■' r-" "« 

PHation for the production of brains Vnd* T"' 
'lave to be repeated Batfi. ..'"'■ ""1 "ouU not 
.cars and go to thitrap h^rp ^uir '"" T " ''^ 








pr,»IucHon of trained b-ains, and that of tl.o same every year for the l)uilding of battlesl.ins 
Winch is the most profitable investment of a nation's 
surplus wealth? And what is a battleship, which 
costs as much to build as it does to endow a univer- 
sity? It is a temporary, fragile thing, made to 
sniHsh and be smashed, soon out of style, and thrown 
aside, when, after a few years, worn out. It is the 
expression of the destructive, the cursed side of na- 
tional character and life, that which makes for loss 
and rum, or at least, for defense against wanton 
attack. It may be necessary to build war vessels, we 
do not deny, but Sir Norman Lockyer is right in say- 
ing that brains are a better defense than battleships, 
and better worth building.' Amen ! says the lover of 
his country who believes in the teachings of Christ. 
That teaching is all towards the reign of peace among 
men. But if it is true that we have not yet reached 
the place in our Christian civilization where battle 
ships and navies can be dispensed with, let ut 
at least be true enough to our faith to insist 
upon it, that if the United States spends mil- 
lions every ^ :ar in building machines to kill, W 
should also appropriate as many more million* 
to preserve life, and educate men and women into 
good Christian citizens. The State already appro- 
priates public money in vast sums to maintain jails, 
penitentiaries, asylums, hospitals, and poorhouses. 
The same amount of money spent on establishing 
kindergartens, universities, training schools, and in 

'. ! 




I i 


ine cost of these other institutions hv . ^ 
prevention which i. .„ i„„„„bir^^, ,' "^^^ »' 
force of America. w!fh -ll .l teaching 

incrcMein wealth ,!. u "'"""••^'' "''8'"3' 

than it waT Jl'\ « "^ '^"" ?*''' '■"• "» -""-k 
■»n u was twctj-fivc ycurs airo. With .11 

bragging prosperity there is one^L rf 1 
America that has not benefitoZlt ' , T f '" 
especially teachers and mini te„ 1 1- ""' ''''''• 

'- been in the same pujt loT Iwe ty Z'" "h:"" 

""".bered two hund^d' H M^ta ■';/J;r 
J-ear The church now numbers o7er" to"^ h" 
In the twenty years' time of a faithful elf " ^ 
^« mini^try U„ ,,„„, ^^ .J^^r^'lZX 

ia;^em^n^^:^tXurVhi:i: Td ""'^^ 

fact that fh. A. u J ' '^ "°* '^"^ *o the 

act that the church does not appreciate the man 
But hjs men^bership is made up almost entirl Irl 
the salaned class, and while almost every otir 

>ca, who are not the monev-seekin.; neoDle \T 
among the solid, useful .e„a„ts of^sSt whi "" 
not paid fair wages for the service reXI' "' 









"This is us true of tcjicliors us of Miinistcrs. I 
know a high-school principal who, ton yours ago, was 
paid $1600 a year. He has grown in his important 
position. He is ten times more capable as a public 
servant now than he was ton years ago. Yet he gets 
no more pay, and during a period of ten years' uncom- 
plaining service he has twice been asked if he could 
not work for less. 

" The new patriotism would place brains before bat- 
tleships, and brains before commercial supremacy. 
It would magnify the sor^icc of its public servants in 
the ministry, and give a living wage sufficient to 
ensure against anxiety or future wr.nt. It is, of 
course, true, and always will be, that neither the min- 
ister nor the teacher are in their professions to make 
money. They practically say to the world when they 
enter their professions, we are not money-seekers. 
Wo labor for the love of the service. But under the 
present social order, it is not fair to ask a minister 
to do his work without sufficient tools, or a teacher 
to do his on such insufficient margin that nis service 
is marred by anxiety. Christian Socialism would 
rank the teacher above the warrior, who is cared for 
in his old age by the government. Who does the 
more lasting service.? At any rate, if the government 
pensions those who risked their lives in the physical 
war, it ought to provide liberally for the efficiency of 
its force of teachers who are helping to preserve *' e 
Republic intact by their loyal, intelligent, self-sacri- 
ficmg education of the boys and girls who are soon 

I ii 






to be t!,e statesmen and builders of the land. It 
would muply be an act of wise conunercial economy 
for the State to increase the salaries of its teachers, 
and,fy their value in every possible way to the 
otate. *' 

"The new patriotism would also, under Christian 
Socahsm, declare its protest against many false 
fonns of patriotic expression, notably, the celebration 
of^our great national festivities or commemorative 

"The Fourth of July celebration has become a dis- 
t.not absurdity, without any serious educating pur- 
pose; a day given oyer to senseless noise, dissipation, 
athletic and theatrical performances for so much 
apiece, and a vast and unnecessary expenditure of 
money, that ought to be used to relieve distress or 
establish some permanent monument to the civic pride 
and virtue of the people." 

Thus far in his address. Stanton had been listened 
to with the closest attention. The beautiful hall had 
been the scene of many wonderful gatherings and 
many remarkable utterances, but it is doubtful if any 
subject discussed there had provoked such intense 
- ores as this. But Stanton had just finished his 
calm statement about the Fourth of July, when a 
finely-dressed man, sitting three rows from the edge 
of t^e platform, rose to his feet, turned about, aTd 
faced the audience. 

His voice rang out plainly so that the farthest lis- 
tener standmg m the upper gaUery heard the words: 


" I protest against this address. It is full of dan- 
gerous teaching. It ought not to continue." 

The audience leaned like one man toward the man 
who made this interruption. And for a moment a 
breathless stillness pervaded the house. In that 
silence Stanton, unmoved, almost coldly indifferent 
outwardly, remained facing the people, then he slowly 
stepped back and sat down by the chairman, who the 
same instant rose to his feet and went forward. 



I If 



THE momentary silence following the statement 
made by the man in Mie audience was suddenly 
broken by voices that roc'e from every part of 
the Auditorium. There were cheers and hisses. 
Groups of men arose in different places and shouted. 
The man who had interj .pted sprang up on a seat, 
and again his clear, reasonant voice could be heard 
above the confusion. 

" Hear me ! Let me have a word ! '* 
The noise died down. People seated themselves. 
The man stood on the seat waiting for silence. The 
chairman of the meeting, who had not yet s^ok<.-i 
stood attentively gazing at the man on the seat. 

" I repeat, I protest against this address, and I have 
risen in my place to make my protest as public as pos- 
sible. I do not believe in this doctrine, and I do not 
believe that the American people ought to listen- 
He was suddenly interrupted by hisses and ap- 
plause. Men rose in groups and shouted out various 
things. There were cries for "Stanton! Stanton!" 
He sat impas,sive and refused to rise. The chairman 
suddenly leaned over the edge of the platform and 
spoke to the man standing on the seat. The reporters 
used their pencils rapidly. 




The audit 



instanlJy, subsided again 
order to hear what the chairman was saying to 

" Are you a meir.ber of the League, sir? " the chair- 
man was saying, in a calm, dispassionate tone. 

" No, sir, I am not. But I feci as if u protest ought 
to be made against such teaching, and I make mine, 
here and now. I am not the only one who feels this 
way. If I mistake not, there are hundreds here to- 
night who share my feelings." 

He was interrupted again by hisses and applause. 
The chairman waited again to be heard. 

" Sir, you have made your protest and have been 
heard. But I am the chairman of this meeting, and I 
protest against your interruption. Dr. Stanton was 
invited here by the Chicago Municipal League to speak 
on Christian Socialism. He has been giving his views, 
as he was .skod to do. He is enHtled to a respectful 
hearing. I call on this audience to give it to him. If 
you have any questions to ask, I have no doubt Dr. 
Stanton will be glad to answer them in the conference 
which has been advertised to follow this meeting." 

" I have no questions to ask him," replied the gen- 
tleman, " but I do have this to say to him. Dr. Stan- 
ton, I believe you are all wrong in what you have said. 
I don't doubt your sincerity ; but that makes what you 
say all the more dangerous. I don't care to sit here 
and listen to any more. Here is my card, sir, if you 
care to call and talk it over with me." 

He gave his card to an usher, who handed it up to 

f ' 


1 f: 


the chairman, who gave it to Stanton. Immediately 
the man walked out in the aisle and started to go up 
towards the lobby. Groups of men around him rose 
and went out at the same time. The papers next 
morning said that three or four hundred retired The 
chairman, a shrewd, cool-headed young man, made a 
careful estimate of the number, and counted two hun- 
dred and eighty-nine. 

As these scattering groups were going out, some one 
up in the highest gallery started "America." The 
tune was caught up by the audience, and the volume 
of Its music rolled up like a thunder rumbling. People 
who had been standing up bcgai to take the seats of 
those who had gone out. When the singing ceased, 
some one shouted, " Recess is over. Stanton ! Stanton •" 
Everybody laughed, and Stanton rose again, know- 
ing that the majority of the audience was now with 
him. He had not been disturbed by the unexpected 
interruption. And without referring to it, he now 
went on as if nothing had happened. The crowd 
enjoyed his calm, unruffled dignity, the absence of any 
resentment, the apparent calmness of his position 
which refused to be angered, excited, or ruffled by 

"As I was saying. Christian Socialism stands for a 
new patriotism in the matter of a better, more seuM- 
ble observance of our great national celebrations. It 
would not be possible, I suppose, to estimate the 
amount of money spent every Fourth of July in gun- 
powder in making a noise, in dissipations which have 



no connection whatever with the day or its meaning. 
I would hke to propos. .„ tlv^ people of this country, 
that next Fourth of .uiy, in.tca. of buying powder 
and bummg firewor s o cclehr.e the day, we take 
that same amount of ....,y, ., .d m each town, village, 
city, or rural community, place some institution or 
object that will be a lasting memorial to good citizen- 
ship. In one city of 40,000 people last Fourth, just 
after a great and unprecedented flood had apparently 
drained the resources of the i^eople in caring for thos'e 
who had lost everything, ov. r $10,000 were expended 
on fireworks, which gave a momentary pleasure to 
those who saw them, but which relieved no actual 
human distress, and ministered to no actual human 
need. That $10,000 put into a statue of Lincoln ; put 
into pictures for the public schools; put into a per- 
manent memorial building dedicated to the uses of 
good citizenship, would be a thousand times more 
sensible and patriotic than the use actually made 
of it. 

"I appeal to the patriotism of this country to 
spend at least one Fourth of July in the way I have 
suggested. Have we not had racket and noise enough 
all these years? Will it hurt our boys to have them 
give their fireworks' money one year, at least, if they 
never do it again, to buy something that will last, 
something that they can be proud of as they look at 
It m their town that they helped to build? Are our 
children so destitute of any real love of country that 
we can teach them, as many of us do, to give their 





■ I 



pennies to the Church and Sunday School and for 
missions, but cannot expect them to do anything, as 
children, for the real things represented by the Flag? 
Or are the parents of America afraid to ask the;- 
boys to enter into this kind o.' a celebration oi 
the Fourth, as if they could not be taught real 

"I know of some sturdy Christian families that 
have already begun to revolt at the barbarous travesty 
on patriotism that our present Fourth of July stands 
for, and who have begun to teach their children the 
higher . d better uses of the day. The children 
respond lo that teaching, also, as children always will 
when the right motive is used. Christian fathers and 
mothers can expect to do great service to the country 
of the future. In any case, whether you believe with 
me or not on this point— an J I do not expect the man- 
ufacturers of gunpowder or fireworks to rise and 
applaud— in any case it would not hurt this Repubhc, 
next Independence Day, to spend its money for some 
lasting, patriotic memorial, built by the school chil- 
dren of America, in the name of those great ideals 
which made our independence a historical fact in the 
eyes of the nations of the world. 

"7. Christian Socialism also embodies in its prac- 
tical programme a belief in the necessity for doing 
everything that can be done to annihilate the liquor 
business in all its forms. 

"Very few Socialists advocate any restriction of 
the liquor business. Most of them say if Socialism 


saloon and all it ?! ''^'°" °^ ^'^"**^' *^^* *^« 

not restrict or ; ^"'^"^'•*" Socahsm would 

Js a Dart of +>,o «« institution, 

« part 01 the proerramme of Christffln <5« • r 
It IS conceded tha drink h. '' ,V^" Socialism, 

but it is asserted "'"''T '^'^ ^'' P°°^ 

poor because theV drinri ""^'^V^''^^ "'^^ "^ 
-human niiW,-.LvH tn/sll l*; r^^^ 
attempts to remove-are a In' 7 . f ^°''"^'^"' 
roundin^s Tho . i u ' ^^"^Pt^tions and sur- 

of trial r- :''^°" ^'^^ J^«d tliousands of years 

<iost "ei a :rimet".'""'^ ^^ ^^"'^^ ^ « ^o- 


citizens. It has n«f 1 Prostitutes, and evil 

It nas not one redeem n^ qualitv F..« 
^ts apparent charities are traps of the dev^ to , " 

victims and despoil them of 'their avt' T^ ' 
raoval of the saloon under anv svs^r 1'* ''" 

underanvkindof «n., 7 J -^ ^ "" °* economics, 
anj kmd of social order, even the present .ocial 





il ; 





"^^T-f Wtjtw, ili'a 



one, would result in untold blessing to every man, 
woman and child. Christian Socialism regards the 
liquor business as a sin and crime combined. 

" It is a sin against God to live by selling an article 
that robs men of health, reason, morals and money. 
It is Ti crime against the State to -^ngagc in a business, 
which the common verdict of civilization declares to 
be destructive to every other business, and the largest 
factor in filling jails, almshouses and asylums. The 
Christian Soc; list cannot ignoro the factor of the 
liquor business as a most serious economic factor. 
Every cent of the round billion spent every year in 
the United States on intoxicating drink is worse than 
thrown away. It is an enormous leakage in the 
factor of savings, and it is the distinct duty of every 
lover of humanity ' • use every effort in his power to 
remove this cause of human misery. Christian Social- 
ism plainly declares as one of its unequivocal beliefs, 
the conviction that any real effort to benefit the social 
condition of the world must count on the need of 
taking out of society an institution which is estab- 
lished to wreck and ruin every good thing that exists. 

" 8. A part of the programme of Christian Social- 
ism is its faith in the final louvening of the Church, 
the Sunday School, and the religious organizations 
of the Christian young people of the world. In other 
words. Christian Socialism believes in the real work 
which the true Church of Christ is doing in the world, 
and cannot conceive of a social order of man worth 
having or talking about, which shuts out the organi- 




zation of the Church, tlie regular study of God's 
word, or the deeply enthusiastic religious activities of 
young life. 

" The whole hope of a permanent social order that 
shall bless the world rests or. the true religious liie of 
the race. Not on bigotry, not on fanaticism, not on 
sectarianism, not on man-made creeds, but on true 
religion, which, Jesus taught, was all summed up in 
love of God and one's neighbor. The Church, with 
all its mistakes, weaknesses, sins, failures, has never- 
theless contained a leaven of righteousness. It has 
stood for mighty essentials of human happiness. It 
is true, I hear some one say, you have left the Church 
yourself, because she would not endure this teaching. 
No, I have not, my brother. I have only gone out of 
one local body because I believed I could work better 
than if I stayed in that special place. But I have 
not lost my faith in fhe Church of Christ in general, 
nor given up my love to her as embodying the real 
hope of society. 

" I am sincerely, profoundly and unalterably con- 
vinced that men and women are being reared in 
the Church to-day, as in no other institution known 
to men, for the express ask of righting human 
wrongs and establishing che Kingdom of God on 
earth. I regard the Sunday School as an institution 
so full of social influence that no scheme of Socialism 
can ignore it, or regard it as having little significance. 
It represents in the thought of the Christian Socialist 
immense possibilities for the future. To sneer at a 






Sunday School is to acknowledge the fact of a huge 
ignorance of one of the largest social factors in civili- 
zation. The young people's religious organizations 
are of such meaning and possibilities that Christian 
Socialism declares it to be a part of its faith in the 
future to count on these young enthusiasts as won- 
derful factors in any order of the future that is worth 
working for. Christian Socialism declares its firm 
belief in the great fundamentals of the Church. Its 
teachings through the centuries, of the value and 
necessity, for example, of a Christian Sabbath, is one 
of the vital faiths of Christian Socialism. 

" Anything which helps to destroy the right use of 
the Sabbath is an enemy of human progress. The 
commercial greed which uses this day like other days, 
to make money, is a greed which deserves and gets 
the severe condemnation of God. There is an institu- 
tion in this State which boasts of its rapid commercial 
progress. Its machinery grinds on, day and night 
and Sundays, without cessatioii. The citizens of that 
town point with pride at the wonderful enterprise and 
power of Lhe plant. They like to tell you how many 
hands are employed ; how much money they spend in 
the town; what a great thing it is for the State. 
Who raises his voice against the insatiable greed which 
robs God of his righteous day for rest, worship and 
service? No one but the few faithful preachers of 
the town, and many of the active business men call 
them cranks for uttering their protest. The dese- 
cration of the Sabbatli by men and women who cannot 


get pleasure enough out of "di**da:TS, hut must have 
seven, means the unnecessary employment of thou- 
sands of other people in theatres, livcry-stahles, rail- 
roads, in places of amusement and dissipation. The 
great labor organizations, many of them, use the 
day, or a large part of it, for their social and business 
n ^etings. The Day of the Lord is trampled on con- 
temptuously or carelessly by the multitude who come 
up to its holy opportunity without either reverence or 
( arnest purpose. Christian Socialism declares with 
strong emphasis its belief in the right use of one day 
in seven for three things — rest, worship and service. 
Any habit which interrupts these three uses of the 
Sabbath is contrary to the teachings of Jesus, and 
is one of the causes for the unhapplness and loss of 
men in every part of the world's energy. 

" Together with its faith in the ultimate fashioning 
power of the Church and its teachings. Christian 
Socialism believes and teaches the great value and 
necessity of missionary energy to help bring about a 
better social order among men. 

" Here, again, is where some of our socialistic 
friends will put on their hats and go out. Missions ! 
forsooth! a feeble and feminine little adjunct to the 
Church and prayer-meeting! But what is the object 
of Christian Socialism.'' Not simply to improve 
social conditions in my little trades-union ; not simply 
to bring about be 'iter conditions in my own home, or 
my own town and State, but everywhere around the 
world, and among all sorts and conditions of men. 






The whole social order needs the leaven of Christ. 
China needs it as well as Germany and America. 
India and Africa and Japan need life abundantly, and 
that is the only true Socialism which takes account 
in its programme of all nations of the earth. It 
has never occurred to the average man of labor to 
reckon up the tremendous debt which civilization owes 
the missionary, both home and foreign. It is worth 
while to note what the President of the United States 
has recently said about missions. No wiser or truer 
statements have ever fallen from his lips. He said, 
' It is such missionary work that prevents the pioneers 
from sinking perilously near the level of the savagery 
against which they contend. Without it, the con- 
quest of this continent would have had little but an 
animal side. Because of it, deep beneath and through 
the national character, there runs that power of firm 
adherence to a lofty ideal, upon which the safety of 
the nation will ultimately depend.' 

"I would to God those three profound sentences 
could be engraved in tablets, and put up in every 
schoolroom, church, factory and mercantile house 
in .he country. Sneer at missions ! The missionary 
of the Cross has been worth more to America than all 
the money-seekers or politicians in its history. 

"Commenting on these remarkable utterances of 
Tresident Roosevelt, The Outlook of last August 
said : ♦ That this is a sound view, no one who has stud- 
ied historically the forces which have produced the 
United States, can deny. The home missionary, who 




. I 


to many people is hardly more than a man with a 
wife and several children, somewhere out West, to 
whom a barielful of odds and ends is sent, and from 
whom is received a letter full of gratitude and ac- 
counts of prayer-meetings, is in reality one of the 
most dominant agents in the making of history that 
the world has ever known. Compared with the set- 
tlement and civilization of Europe, the spread of civ- 
ilization over the territory which now comprises the 
United States has been startling in its swiftness. No 
armies ever achieved so thorough or so speedy a tri- 
umph as the American pioneers did. And an>ong the 
pioneers none were more courageous, none more stead- 
fast, and none more in earnest, or, on the whole, more 
successful in attaining tl'eir purposes, than the men 
who went, not for the sake of extracting wealth from 
the soil, but for the sake of establishing righteousness 
in the new communities. In the midst of greed, or 
what, at best, may be called the spirit of acquisitive- 
ness, they injected the spirit which seeks not to get, 
but to give, the savii.^^ spirit of service, the leaven of 
the nation.' 

" That is not religious fanaticism or sentiment, it is 
historical fact. The same thing is true of the foreign 
missionary. Wherever the Cross of Jesus has gone, 
borne by sincere and consecrated hands, there has gone 
healing and power. The largest medical institution 
in the world is in India, put there by a modest young 
surgeon, whose name probably not one member of 
a trades-union in America ever heard of. Yet this 



'f ' 




mission, only one out of thousands of benofioont insti- 
tutions planted by the missionary boards, has done 
more to hrip solve the difficult social and political con- 
ditions of that part of India than anything the 
British Government has ever been able to do. The 
debt of England and America to the foreign mission- 
aries for the work which they have done to open a new 
and hostile territory to commerce alone is a debt which 
neither nation can compute in terms of money. The 
great debt the world owes to the missionary every- 
where is the debt which must always be owed to those 
unselfish men and women who, without noise and 
without praise, give their lives to lift up fallen races, 
and bring the Christ of God into a depth of misery, 
want, injustice ai ' torture, of which the American 
laborer knows noiL .^. Christian Socialism is obliged 
to note the fact of the necessity for this socializing 
influence of the missionary of the Cross, and it puts in 
a foremost place in its platform a profound belief in 
this agency for establishing a Christian order among 
all the children of men. 

"9. Christian Socialism declares as one of its 
greatest beliefs its faith in the Christian family as the 
centre of the real lasting life of a happy, useful 
humanity. In other words, the Christian home is the 
greatest institution in the Republic, and around it 
revolve the greatest destinies, and can be found 
the greatest shaping forces of the future of the 

" Christian Socialism resents with horror any social 


teaching which treats the marriage relation with h'ght- 
ness or contempt. It declares the doctrine of the 
New Testament as to one wife, and the teaching of 
Jesus on the matter of divorce, accepting only one 
condition as permitting a lawful separation from one 
person and marriage to another. A God-fearing, 
God-loving, sacred relationship, a family altar, an 
obedient, truthful upbringing of children, a mother- 
hood hallowed by simple domestic joys and service, a 
fatherhood ennobled by participation in children's 
plays, and sympathetic with their ambitions, a home 
circle which is a genuine centre of civic righteousness 
and Church and national love ; this is fundamental to 
any permanent social democracy. Any attempt to 
establish a community life which ignores or despises 
the individual Christian family is an attempt which 
will inevitably result in disaster. The Republic can 
never be rightly socialized until the family is rightly 

his, in brief outline, is the programme of Chris- 
tian Socialism. It is nothing more nor less than the 
putting of Jesus' teaching into practice in every-day 
life. It is simply the attempt to do all things to the 
glory of God. It is the assertion in practical terms 
of the Bible teaching that the earth is the Lord's 
and the fullness thereof. It is man's part in the 
answer to the prayer Jesus taught his disciples to 
pray, ' Thy Kingdom come, Thy will be done on earth 
as it is in heaven.' 

" It is true, this kind of Socialism depends, first of 




• 'I 




all, upon a regenerated humanity ; * Seek ye fir^t the 
Kingdom of God,' is the first sontenco at the head of 
the Christian Socialism programme. This is what 
makes it distinct from all those social programmes 
which place first, either legislation or political and 
commercial supremacy. Above and iinder and 
through all the Christian Socialist's efforts to make a 
better phyuical condition for the race is the vision 
of the Kingdom of God, in the individual soul of man, 
acting as leaven on his surroundings, socializing them 
with the same divine purpose and power: 'Man ehull 
not live by bread alone,' is also a statement fundamen- 
tal in the Christian Socialist's creed, together with 
Jesus' other statements, ' A man's life consisteth not 
in the abundance of the things that he possesseth,' 
and 'What shall it profit a man to gain the whole 
world and forfeit his life?' 

" It is hardly necessary to add that ir the carrying 
out of this programme, the Christian Socialist depends 
upon the quiet, continuous, loving forces which nre at 
work already in the world. Education of the people, 
enlightenment of human reason and judgment through 
all the avenues of the Church, the school, the press, 
the labor organizations, the home, the platform, the 
magazine, the debate, the formation of public opinion 
in all peaceful ways. In addition to all this, Chris- 
tian Socialism expects to receive most of its inspira- 
tion and its progress from the divine source of the 
Holy Spirit, who, according to the promise, is in the 
world on purpose to take tiie things of Christ and 



show them unto us. To carry out ft definite pro- 
gramme for the establishment of a better, happier 
■of'-^l order, and take no account of the power of the 
Holy Spirit, is as impossible for Christian Socialism, as 
it would be impossible to expect a <«tcam engine to go 
without lighting a fire under the boiler to make steam. 
The divine purpose and power are constantly taken 
into the account by the Christian. ' Not by might, 
nor by power ; but by my spirit, saith the Lord,' is the 
humble reliance the Christian Socialist places in that 
strength which is more than human. By wliich alone 
man shall be able to realize any degree of an ideal 
human societ}'. 

*' Christian Socialism has no place in its programme 
for hatred of one class for another; it contains no 
place for race prejudice, or for a doubtful standard 
of conduct ; it has no room for machine methods in 
politics nor for narrow sectarianism in religion ; it 
entertains no false visions of a social brotherhood 
built up by force or legislation in a day ; it sees 
clearly the slow-moving, but certain, growth of the 
Kingdom of God in the world, the leavening and 
shaping factors jf divine light and life. It has its 
ideal, as it should have, but it is not impracticably 
visionary of results. With a majesty which will not 
be falsely forced, and a serenity which never has been 
superficially fluttered, with an energy which is not 
stolidity, the Kingdom of God is being established 
among the children of men. The final achievement 
may be to our human impatience * unreasonably de- 




: -11 



! 1 ! 

■i ■ 

, ; 




layed ' ; but in the end righteousness shall prevail, and 
the Brotherhood shall be established on earth, as it is 
in heaven, even as God wants it to be, and as Jesus 
taught us it might be, if we obeyed his commandments 
and lived according to his teachings." 

It was late when Stanton finished his address, and 
he did not expect any large number in the audience 
would remain to the after conference. To his aston- 
ishment, scarcely a hundred people went away. For 
more than an hour longer, question and answer fol- 
lowed fast on each other. Even when the chairman of 
the League closed the conference, because it was 
within a few minutes of midnight, groups of men 
gathered about Stanton, eagerly discussing his posi- 
tion, and raining questions upon him. The city 
papers commenting on the address and the meeting, 
while taking exception to many of Stan+on's views, 
acknowledged frankly that the subject was evidently 
one of great public interest, and that it could not be 
ignored nor sneered into oblivion. 

The chairman of the League walked along with 
Stanton to his hotel, congratulating him on the suc- 
cess of the evening. Stanton, with a modesty which 
was his usual attitude, attributed whatever was a suc- 
cess to the public interest in the subject. 

" By the way, that man who made the interruption, 
do you know him .'' " Stanton took the man's card out 
and looked at it as they pc.used at the hotel entrance, 
reading the name aloud, ** James R. Mansfield, 1012 
Prairie Avenue.** 




The chairman shook his head. "Never heard of 
him. Shall you call on him.'"' 

"Yes, I think so. I do not leave the city until 
to-morrow evening." 

They shook hands and said good-night, Stanton 
pondering over his experience at the Auditorium, and 
feehng the natural reaction from the tension he had 
been under for several hours. 

In the morning he called at 1012 Prairie Avenue, 
and in reply to his question if IMr. Mansfield was at 
home, was informed by the servant that he was, and 
invited to come in. He was ushered into a large, 
handsomely furnished parlor, and had hardly seated 
himself when the owner of the house came in. 


I It 


• i i 





AS Stanton rose to meet the man, he noticed a 
momentary gleam of astoniblimeut in his eyes, 
but his greeting was outwardly civil enough. 

" Mr. Stanton, I hardly expected you would take 
the trouble, f ir, to come out here, after what happened 
last night." 

" I took you at our word, brother, and I am here. 
I hardly know why, but it struck me you went away 
last night because you did not understand my posi- 
tion, not because you really disagreed with me." 

" I disagreed with you because I believe your theo- 
ries are all wrong." 

" I did not come to argue with you, brother," said 
Stanton quietly. " But I had an idea that you mis- 
understood my definitions and my position generally." 

" I think not," replied Mansfield a little stiflly. " If 
I understand you as I think I do, your position on the 
question of property, for example, is like this." 

lie went on to give an absolutely false construction 
to Stanton's teachings in the matter of property and 
private ownership. Stanton listened quietly, but it 
took all his remarkable self-control to maintain his 
composure. Mansfield grew excited more and more, 
as he walked up and down, striking vigorously at 





the man-of-straw bogie he had constructed out of his 
own misconception of Stanton's words and teaching. 
Even when Stanton, in a brief inf— nl, during 
which Mansfield paused to take breatl. tt mptcd to 
set him right, he stamped up and down a fused to 

listen, charging Stanton with all kinds absurd 

teaching and confounding the words socialism, 
anarchy, communism, free love, and utopianism with 
an astonishing display of ignorance, which finally im- 
pressed Stanton with such force that his sense of 
humor came to his relief, and he sat still, listening to 
Mansfield's tirade, smiling inwardly at its absui ^ity, 
and pitying the man for his complete lack of reason 
and judgment in spite of his apparent intelligence. 

When at last there was a pause, after Mansfield had 
exhausted his rhetoric in a particularly absurd chal- 
lenge to Stanton to deny a statement Stanton had 
never made, the latter rose, and quietly said, "Mr. 
Mansfield. I do not think it is possible for me to 
change your opinion of my teaching. All I wish to 
say is this : you have entirely misunderstood my book, 
from which you quoted several times, each time incor- 
rectly, and you have defined terms for me which I have 
never made." 

Mr. James R. Mansfield stared at Stanton, and an 
angry red spot began to glow on each cheek. Stan- 
ton walked toward the door. 

" I don't see what you called for," said Mansfield 

"I don't either, brother," replied Stanton with a 

\ 1,1 




^ i 


smile. " I am very sorry you don't understand me ; 
but I am sure it is quite useless for me to try to 

The man looked at him sourly for a moment, and 
then laughed, " You're like all the anarchists, unrea- 
sonable, and get mad over an argument ! " 

Stanton gravely bowed and went out, pondering 
the rest of the day, as he went about the city, over 
the strange perversity and stupidity of some kinds of 
Going home on the evening train, he met one of his 
o 1 parishioners, a man in full sympathy with his 
tej.«.hing and purpose. In conversation and in answer 
to questions about the Auditorium meeting, Stanton 
mentioned Mansfield's name, and related the incident 
of the interruption. 

"James R. Mansfield.?" 
" Yes, he lives out on Prairie Avenue." 
"I know him. He is an idle fellow; never did a 
stroke of honest labor in his life. Lives on the money 
his father made in real estate deals after the big 

"But doesn't it astonish you?" asked Stanton, 
" that this man, with all his intelligence and educa- 
tion, should so absolutely misunderstand the plain 
definitions and statements I made.'' Am I so obsure in 
my doctrine that men of Mansfield's calibre cannot 
grasp the meaning.''" 

"My dear friend," said Stanton's parishioner with 
a smile, " do you realize that there are a host of people 



in this civilized world yet, who do not or will not grasp 
an idea that is foreign to their life habits of thought? 
James R. Mansfield is simply a type of the kind of 
men you are destined to meet all over this country, 
men who refuse to allow new ideas or definitions to 
percolate into their brains. Even when you prove to 
such people that anarchy and socialism are opposite 
ideas, they will listen, and then say, ' Oh, well, for all 
practical purposes they are just the same!' What 
can you :lo with such people? " 

" Give them over to the tender mercies of the Lord," 
replied Stanton with a sigh. 

"Yet some of these newspaper men are just as 
bad," continued his friend, taking up a copy of an 
evening paper containing an account of the meeting 
at the Auditorium. 

There was a fairly accurate account of the meeting 
itself, and a number of extracts from Stanton's 
address. But in an editorial his address was attacked 
and ridiculed from the standpoint of the editor, as 
he perverted Stanton's actual views, not as Stanton 
had clearly and plainly expressed himself. To any 
one who had not heard Stanton, the editorial was a 
profound and deserving rebuke for a visionary and 
dangerous social doctrine. But it was Mansfield's 
bogie, set up and bravely knocked down. The address 
as a whole was not analyzed. The main thought in it 
was contemptuously ignored, and the editor's own per- 
version of socialism, entirely divorced from Christian 
teaching, was substituted. 










•f. '•"S-»-Fil 

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\ !■:■ 


'I I 



The whole distortion of the truth stung Stanton 
deeply. It was a cowardly way of trying to throw 
the reading public off the track. Together with the 
incident of Mansfield's protest, it added to his fear 
that the people were not yet ready for his doctrine. 
The question Mildred had raised haunted him. " Do 
you think the people will listen to you? " He recalled 
his answer, "Woe is me if I preach not the Gospel 
this message of a social Christ to men, whether they 
are ready for it or not." And as he drew near home, his 
great gentle spirit grew calmer. " If the thing is of 
God," he said to himself, " man cannot prevail against 
it. Not all the stupid, stubborn Mansfields and edi- 
torials can down the sure rising of the Truth." 

He passed a few days in Lenox before going out to 
his next engagement, and he spent a part of the time 
at the mills, getting educational facts to use concern- 
ing machinery, hours of labor, danger to workmen, 
etc. In passing through the casting-room, he was 
surprised to see Harvey standing by the " Octopus " 
talking to the foreman. He seemed very much excited 
over something, and the foreman seemed angry at 
Harvey's presence. 

As Stanton was moving slowly along, passing into 
the brass foundry room, an exclamation from Harvey 
drew his attention again to the two men. He thought 
the foreman threw up his arms as if to strike the labor 
leader. Harvey stepped back, his dark face blacker 
still with passion, and at that moment one of the 
derrick arms of the " Octopus " swung round with its 



usual load of white-hot iiiotal. There was a hoarse 
cry from the man up aloft, who pulled at t»>o or three 
levers frantically. Something had gone wrong some- 
where. Whatever it was, Harvey stood in great peril. 
The foreman snatched at him, missed his sleeve, and 
jumped back. To Stanton, watching the whole thing 
in a horrified nightmare, powerless to do anything, 
events merged one into another with definite but 
startling rapidity. A workman ran out from under 
the scorching fist of the derrick arm, and shielding 
his ej-es from the blinding glare, flung himself on the 
da^ed figure of the labor leader, just as the remorse- 
less arm broke from the chain and swirled over, drag- 
ging its connections in a confused tangle over the spot 
where Harvey and the workman had fallen together. 
There was a second's gleam of recognition as the blue- 
white flame swept the actors in the little tragedy into 
more than lime-light distinctness, that Stanton was 
conscious that the workman who had run up to Har- 
vey was Harwood, the mill owner. As the machinery 
came to a stop, and men paused a second before the 
possible sight under the broken " Octopus," Stanton's 
prayer went up to God the Father for all his suffer- 
ing children. 


i if, 










WHEN the men finally ran up and began to 
clear away th mass of broken, twisted ma- 
chinery, they came first upon Harvey. One 
of his feet was crushed and held down by a piece of 
broken derrick arm, but the rest of his body was free, 
and, with the exception of a few bruises, he was not 
seriously injured, although he was unconscious. 

The foreman noted the details of the accident with 
a cool shrewdness that was not disturbed by so com- 
mon a thing as an accident. 

"He was pushed over this way. Lucky for him 
that he was. Now the other fellow " 

The workmen, under his directions, lifted off broken 
masses of metal until, after half an hour's careful 
work, the crushed and crippled form of Harwood was 

Grimy but tender hands lifted him into the ambu- 
lance, which had been summoned and had been wait- 
ing. The foreman hesitated a moment about sending 
Harvey over to the Company Hospital, but the 
attendant who had come down with the ambulance 
brought word that the doctor had sent an order for 
Harvey to be taken to the hospital. So the two 
bodies, both unconscious, were placed into the vehicle^ 
side by side. 



Stanton, shocked aniost to faintncss by Hftrwood's 
condition, went up to the hospital as fast as he could 
walk, and was there when the two were brought into 
the accident ward. There was nothing he could do 
for Harwowl, so he stayed by Harvey until he came 
to himself, after his foot had been drissed. 

"Where am I?" he asked feebly, seeing Stanton 
by the bedside. 

" You have been hurt a little. You are in the Com- 
pany Hospital." 

Just then tiie doctor came back into the ward, and 
spoke to Harvey. 

"There's nothing the matter with you, old man, 
only you won't walk very good for a little while, and 
vou got a fairly good crack on the head, but no bones 
broken. What I call a miracle." 

He went on out into the corridor and Stanton 
stepped out there. 

" How about Harwood ? " he asked. 

"Oh! Yes, the foreman told, of course. A most 
remarkable affair. Dr. Stanton. I've telegraphed his 
boys to come on from Poughkecpsie. They can't get 
here until to-morrow night. It'll be too late." 

"You don't mean " 

"He was crushed frightfully. It's a wonder he 
is alive. You can come in and see him." 

Stanton went into the room where Harwood was 
lying. He was so terribly marred in the face that 
Stanton recoiled. 

" It will not do any harm — a prayer " 







1 1 






! f 
1 5 





The doctor nodded assent gravely, and Stanton 
kneeled and prayed gently a few sentences. He wa» 
still on his knees when Harwood's lips moved. 

Stanton leaned over him and caught a whisper. 

"Tell my boys not to love mone^ mor" than 
God — Leona — I would like to see my wife, you 
know " 

That was all Stanton could understand, and a few 
moments later Harwood passed into unconsciousness, 
and was in that same stupor when Stanton finally left 
the hospital and went home. 

He went down again the next morning after break- 

The first person he saw in the corridor was J. B. 

" This is a terrible affair, Dr. Stanton," Wrightam 
said, as Stanton entered. 

" It certainly is, Brother Wrightam. How is the 
poor fellow this morning? " 

"What! Have you not heard! He's gone! 
Only ten minutes ago!" Wrightam spoke in great 
agitation. "The doctor has asked me to meet the 
boys when they come in this evening on the 7.30 and 
break the news. I can't do it. Won't you do that. 
Dr. Stanton? You're more used to such things than 
I am." 

" Yes, I'll meet them. Poor fellows ! " 

Stanton was deeply shocked by the news. But he 
had a whole lifetime of Christian faith to fall back 
upon. Wrightam, however, seemed smitten into a 

I JL I JU- -UtlW^ 

■lir— • 


dazed condition. lie walked up nnd down through 
the corridor. 

" I've known Hanvood since wc were in college 
together. This is terrible. I had no idea he was 
down in the mills. What fool notion was that, any- 

Wrightam burst out as if to prevent himself from 
an exhibition of some softer emotion. " He must 
have been out of his mind, don't you think, Mr. 

" No, I don't think so. I believe he was perfectly 

Wrightam stared and resumed his walk. Stanton 
asked one of the nurses passing through the hall about 
Harvey. Just then the doctor came out. 

" Do you want to sec Harwood ? " he asked. 

Stanton nodded and f«,Ilowfd the doctor. Wright- 
am turned at the ond of the hall, hesitated, and then 
came along, entering the room with them where Har- 
wood lay, almost at the same time. 

The lips had not been touched by the cruel iron that 
had put its disfiguring mark everywhere else, and 
Stanton thought of that as he went out after an 
ii.stant's stay. Wrightam stood at the foot of the 
bed, and big tears were rolling over his large, coarse 
face. Stanton felt strangely moved at the sight as 
Wrightam stood there. 

He found Harvey sitting up in bed, already fast 
recovering strengtli. The man's remarkable physical 
vitahty stood him in good stead. 





i & r 




; 1 



■■1 . 


■ ^ 





"Tell me about the a. m< it. I do ''t seem to 
remember how it happened," !:■ ^aid to Stanton, put- 
ting his hand up to hi« he 

"You're not able to ..,'> ninul it." 

can get out of here 
as soon as possible. 
■ !id I ' an'*- afford to 

ood," Stanton 
disclosure that 

doctor has not 
I'd a rule in the 

" Yes, I am. The do 
this week. I want to g a 
We are reorganizing the ' '"'!■ 
be absent from the meetu,, 

"He docs not inquiu • .h.. ,' 
said to himself, shrinking fron ' 
must inevitably come. " '.^'idcnlij u 
told him yet." And then he reinenibt 
Company Hospital oflSce, forbidding nurses or attend- 
ants talking to the patients about the other cases, or 
mentioning deaths in the hospital unless to relatives 
or friends. 

" Well, when I entered the casting-room, you were 
standing under the ' Octopus ' talking with the fore- 
man. It looked to me as if you were having a 

"We were," Harvey replied grimly. "Wallace 
Macgregor called me a liar. I was going to hit him 
for that when the ' Octopus ' hit me." 

" Macgregor tried to pull you out from under. He 
reached for your arm as he sprung back." 

" He did ! Well, I would have done the same for 
him. But some one pushed me. WTio was that?" 

"One of the men." 

" I got a pretty good crack on the skull, as the 
doctor said." 




Han'ey went on with the selfish ituliffironoo sonu'- 
tlmes characteristic of him. *' But if I once get out 
of here I'll soon Imve the Union in shape to dictate 
terms to Wrightam, Harwood & Co. By the way, I 
have not seen you since that time Bill Warren was 
burned at the ^take, and forgot to ask you about your 
going to see Wrightani and Harwood, to talk with 
them aboat loving us trarios-union fellows. I suppose 
you went. What sort of a time did you have?" 

" Wrightam received me as I anticipated. I could 
not find luiy place in him to appeal to," Stanton 
answered, in a low tone. 

" Of course not. Nor in Harwood, either. Of tho 
two mm, I prefer Wrightam. But Harwood, is one 
of these proud, cold, aristocratic fellows, absolutely 
satisfied with his social position and without the 
slightest sense of the Brotherhood or " 

"Stop!" Stanton cried sternly. "Mr. Harwood 
is beyond your judgment or mine or that of your 
Union. He is in the presence of the God of all the 
earth, who will give him credit for the good you and 
I never saw." 

"How! What's that!" Harvey stammered. 

" Mr. Harwood is lierc in the hospital, Harvey. 
He died here about an hour ago." 

"Died here."" 

" Yes, but before dying he saved a life." 

" Saved a life ! " 

"Yours, Bruce Harvey. You would now be in 
his place if he had not done what he did yesterday." 




i m f^ 



; if 



If 1 

>l 1 



H I 

j 1 1 










" But I don't understand, Dr. Stanton. Tell me ? " 
Harvey sat up, and his dark, deep eyes glowed with 
great passion. 

Stanton told him all that was necessary to let him 
know how Hanvood came to be in Lenox lower mill 
as an operative. The narrative humbled and softened 
Harvey tremendously. Several times he interrupted 
to give expression to regret at his language about 

When Stanton was through Harvey was silent 
a while. Then he burst out : 

" I don't want to carry this responsibility of obliga- 
tion around with me all my life. Why did he do it? 
I did not ask him to ! " 

" You cannot escape it now ; it has occurred. Per- 
haps it will help to temper the judgment you have 
sometimes harshly passed on your fellow-men," Stan- 
ton said, as he rose to go. 

"Don't leave me now," Harvey pleaded almost 
piteously. Stanton had never seen him so deeply 

Stanton sat down. "Shall I pray?" he said. 
" If you want to," replied Harvey, after a moment. 
Stanton prayed earnestly. The tears stood i.i 
Harvey's eyes as he listened. When Stanton rose 
to go, Harvey said, "Thank you. Things seem 
mighty queer to me sometimes. 1 cannot understand 
Mr. Harwood's conduct. Life generally is a m.ix-up 
for me anyhow. I wish I had your faith in a good 
God over all." 

• -U-A 

■s-^ v^ffis: °'«rv:-:*w:v>^Tv03P^ 



" You can have it if you want it, Harvey." 
Han-ey shook his head doubtfully, and Stanton 
went out, wondering what the final result of that 
experience would be for the sombre labor leader. 

He found Lenox stirred to keen excitement over 
Harwood's death. Every one was talking about it. 
Some enterprising reporter had tracked down the 
facts about the separation of Harwood from his wife, 
and the Times that ev-ning published a three-column 
sensational " story," half of which had no foundation 
in fact. The two facts of the separation of Har- 
wood from his family, and of hie working in Lenox 
lower mill, were, however, established beyond a doubt, 
as well as the fact that he had been killed in an 
attempt to save the life of Bruce Harvey, the Presi- 
dent of the Labor Union. \ liether he recognized 
Harvey before the accident no one ever kneu-. The 
one thing prominent in men's conversation all over 
Lenox and through the mills was the fret that he 
had given his life in a brave effort to save another 
man, and there was not an operative in cither mill 
that day who withheld his word of praise for the mill 
owner. Men's hearts were tender, their better feel- 
ings were stirred over the event, and groups at the 
street corners all over the town that day stopped to 
question and answer as to Harwood's purpose in 
putting himself into the place of an operative. 

Stanton went down to the evening train to meet 
Harwood's two boys. They both broke down com- 
pletely when they saw Stanton, and again when they 



i i 


I i 1 


s, ' 

1 ' 

lliiii 1 


went up to the hospital. Two days later, after the 
funeral service was over, the older of the boys, 
Arthur, came to Stanton to get his advice as to the 

Stanton was exceedingly interested in the boy. He 
was nineteen years old, and had his father's charac- 
teristics of feature and manner. 

"I don't believe I can go back to the military 
school," he said, in reply to a question. "Father's 
affairs were in Mr. Wrightam's hands. His will has 
provided liberaUy for Leona and Wallace and myself. 
I feel the need of a college education, and I think 
I ought to go to Amherst. Father was an Amherst 
graduate, you know. He was planning, I think, to 
send Wallace and me there this fall. When I get 
through college, I would like to come into the mills 
in some way." 

" In what way do you mean? » Stanton noted the 
fact that the boy had never once mentioned his 
mother's name. 

"Well, i hardly know. What would you advise 

" I don't know that I feel competent, my boy, to 
advise you until I know what you plan to make of 
yourself. The next four years in college will settle 
some things for you. Probably you will have to wait 
for some definite leading of God before vou are sure 
of the future." 

The boy's answer was a surprise to Stanton at first. 
"I am pretty sure of what I want to do. Dr. 



Stanton. I want to study tlie social question from 
the workingman's view. I don't know enough yet, of 
course. That is why I feel the need of a college 
course. But when I am through that, I am certain 
I shall want to enter the mills, something as father 

The boy's tone and manner recalled to Stanton 
Harwood's frank statements on the night he called to 
tell him of his wife's desertion. Harwood had almost 
with passion declared that it had been a secret desire 
with him for years to get near to the heart of the 
social problem, and that at heart he himself was in 
sympathy with the people. As Stanton looked at 
the boy, he could not help saying to himself, " Blood 
is thicker than water, and Harwood's son is simply 
giving expression to the real thing which smouldered 
in his father, like a choking fire, covered up by social 
usage and the happenings of wealth and tradition. 
In the boy, possibly this pent-up fire would break out 
and run over the crater's lip, down the mountain into 
the sea." 

Stanton gave him good counsel, and the boy went 
to Amherst that fall, where, during the next four 
years, Stanton kept up an interesting correspond- 
ence with him, and noted from time to time a most 
remarkable degree of progress in mental power and 
moral purpose. During his junior year, Arthur Har- 
wood was soundly converted, and became a devout 
Christian, but all that belongs to its own place in 
thia narrative, although without that event in the stu- 








I ■ 


■i * 

^'l i 

dent's life, the results that follow in this modest 
chronicie could never have occurred. 

Harvey's stay in the hospital led to an experiment 
which also had its significant bearing on the results 
of Stanton's labors and lectures. 

He and Harvey had many earnest talks about the 
whole subject of labor and wealth and the relation 
of the Church to the whole question. 

Harvey took the ground always that the Church 
was a thoroughly useless institution, full of hypo- 
crites, and that all ministers were parasites, doing no 
real labor and adding nothiig to the increment of toil. 

"How long is it since you were inside a church, 
Harvey.?" asked Stanton, after one of these discus- 
sions. Harvey had be-n out of the hospital for a 
week, and was beginning to organize the Union on a 
strong basis preparatory to making new demands on 
the mill company. 

"I haven't been inside a church for over twenty 

"And yet you pretend to judge the and the 
ministry without any real knowledge of their actual 
life. Would you consider it fair for me to judge 
your trade-union if I had never attended any of its 
meetings, never read any of its literature, and was 
absolutely ignorant of its daily programme.?" 

"No, of course not. I judge the Church in 
general by its fruits. I don't have to go to its 
services to see them." 

" But what do you really know, Harvey, about the 



fruits, say of the Second Presbyterian Church here 
in Lenox? " 

" Well "—Harvey hesitated. «I may not know 
much about it in detail. But I know one or two 
mighty mean men in the Second Presbyterian 

" I suppose there are no mean men in the trade- 
unions .'* " 

" You're wrong. There are a good many of them. 
But we don't pretend to be any better, and the church 
members do." 

" Why don't you.' Isn't it your business to be as 
good as church members.? Have you any excuse for 
not being as good.'"' 

" No excuse, perhaps ; but we don't pretend." 
"No, your men are bad without pretending. I 
don't see much difference in the result, Harvey. But 
I do say you have no right to judge the Churches as 
you do without knowing them any better. A man 
who hasn't been to church for over twenty years is 
not m a position to know what a church is worth in 
the world." 

"Maybe you're right," Harvey said good- 
naturedly. He was thinking of something that 
seemed to lighten up his dark face expressively. 

"I'll go to church if you'll go with me," he said 

" I'll be glad to go. When.? " 

"I have a plan, Mr. Stanton. You said the other 

day you had purposed to be in Lenox three or four 



■ .I 




i V i ? f 


weeks to prepare material for your lectures. I'll go 
to church with you every Sunday and to prayer meet- 
ings as well. We'll visit as many churches as we 
can, as strangers, and I'll promise to keep my mind 
open, without prejudice, to judge of everything on 

its merits." 

«' But I'm too well known here, Harvey, to attend 

church as a stranger." 

"I don't know about that," Harvey answered. 
«*It's been nearly two years since you left Saint 
Cecilia. You haven't been here half a dozen Sundays 
in that time. Saint Cecilia has a new man, and I 
heard you say the other day that you had not met 
liijn. if_if you shaved ofF your beard and wore 
glasses I don't believe any one would know you." 

"Isn't that asking a good deal?" Stanton asked, 


" Maybe, but I'd like to know what kind of a recep- 
tion we would get going into the churches as total 

strangers." t j »v 

" The thing has been tried several times. 1 don t 
know that I attach much value to it as a test. But 
I'm willing to try it," said Stanton, who was eager to 
win Harvey to a right thought of the Church. His 
assent to the little disguise of the glasses and the 
rfemoval of his beard evidently pleased Harvey, and 
the next Sunday found them on their way together 
to the Second Presbyterian Church. They had both 
agreed to dress plainly but neatly, and might have 
passed for almost any kind of trade or business men. 




ONE of the ushers in the vestibule met them 
courteously, and escorted them to good seats 
about halfway down the aisle. There did not 
happen to be any hymn-books in the rack, but as the 
congregation rose to sing, a woman sitting behind 
them haidcd each of them a book. When the service 
was over, they found the minister at the door shaking 
hands. He had never known Stanton intimately and 
Harvey not at all. 

"Glad to see you," he said heartily. "Come 
again. Glad to see you at our prayer-meeting if you 
are in town this week." As they went out an usher, 
with a smile, handed each of them a leaflet with a list 
of church services for the week, and a printed invita- 
tion to attend as many of them as possible. 

"Well, what did you think of it.?" asked Stanton, 
glancing at Harvey quizzically, as they walked along. 
" I don't mind saying I wus surprised," said Har- 
vey, who had listened and looked at everything in 
perfect silence. " But that was probably an excep- 
tion. Has that man been preaching that sort of 
thing very long.'" 

" Well, I never heard Brother Wells preach before 
except at a Thanksgiving service. He gave a series 
one winter on the ' Rights of man and the Rights of 
God.' What did you Ihijik of his sennon to-day ,^'» 






;fi { 

J i 

"It was good!" said Harvey emphatically. "It 
was full of horse sense. And it got down to man's 
needr.. Say, I don't see why more workingmcn don't 
go to hear Mr. Wells." 

"There wore a good many men there. There is 
where you men, Harvey, make a great mistake. You 
sneer at the Church, and say it is for women and 
girls and children. The great bulk of all the church 
members in our most useful churches are wage- 
earners, clerks, and small salaried men." 

" Well, the sermon was all right. I'll concede that. 
And the rest of the service was good enough. But I 
expect the Second Presbyterian is an exception in 

In the evening they went to Saint Cecilia, as Stan- 
ton felt he might escape notice better than if they 
went in the daytime. 

The beautiful church was about half full when they 
were shown to a pew by a M-ell-dressed usher, who 
treated them courteously, and handed each of them a 
programme of the evening service. 

There was an organ voluntary', a responsive 
reading, an anthem ("Ave Maria"), another anthem 
following the offering, two hj'mns, u prayer, a 
Bible reading, a sermon, and another selection by the 
quartette, with an organ postlude. 

The minister preached about the Temple Service 
in Solomon's time, and dwelt at length on the stately 
ritual, emphasizing its value to the worshiper as an 
outward means of educating his religious senses and 


putting him in tlio proper mood for repentance, 
communion and awe. 

As they came out of the vestibule, Stanton was 
crowded against one of his old parishioners, who 
turned to apolo^n"ze, and in nn instant as tlicv went 
down the stops, recognized his furnier pnstt.r, in spite 
of the beardless fnco mid the eye-glasses. 

Stanton quietly introduced Harvey, and at the foot 
of the steps took the parishioner's^rm and walked 
with him a bttle ways, explaining frankly the experi- 
ment he and Har^•ey were making, asking that their 
plan be respected and not disclosed to any one. When 
they parted from the member of Saint Cecilia, Har- 
vey, who had been repressing his feelings, broke out 
m a savage tirrde at the Church, and all he had seen 
and heard that night. 

" That's what I mean by saying the Church is a 
useless appendix to society. Bah! How much Gos- 
pel was there for men like those you and I know 
m the mills, in that sermon.' I'll adniit it was all 
very refined and velvety. Brother Sayers is war- 
ranted nof to offend anybody's delicate taste; that 
would be dreadfn], of course. How one of the old 
prophets like Elijah or Nehemiah would jar on the 
tender nei ves of that audience ! And whfn the plates 
are passed by men like Cummings, the great Trust 
promoter, it is the climax of all you can desire. I 
thought Cummings recognized me, he looked hard 
enough ; but luckily I've lost so much fle.h owing to 
my accident, he didn't know anything. I put a 






*• ii< 

II mii' 



if 5 1 

I : 





nickel into the sanctuary plate to support the Gospel 
as it is not preached in Saint Cecilia." 

Stanton walked along in painful silence. His 
heart had been sore as he sat in a pew in his old 
church that night, and allowed meniorj to do its 

There had been some godly people in that 
church. There were some yet. With all of Stan- 
ton's strange life of cowardice during his pastorate 
in Saint Cecilia, there had grown up in spite of what 
he had held back, a few souls even in those velvet- 
carpeted surroundings, who had not bowed the knee 
to Mammon. But as he had sat there noting the 
display of wealth and ostentation in the house of God 
his heart sank, and a wave of bitterness swept over 
him at the thought of the neglected childhood, the 
desperate condition of the crowded slums down by 
the river, the open and flaunting institutions of gam- 
bling and vice and drink that festered and rotted 
in one large part of Lenox, while these silk and satin 
clothed worshipers in the temple that cost half a 
million dollars complacently threw God's money after 
dress and fashion and pleasure, and repudiated the 
duty of service to the State or the city, and absconded 
with God's wealth, denying their stewardship and 
worshiping the golden calf as the greatest of all 
things in the world. 

Harvey at last understood Stanton's silence and 
ceased his Invective. When they parted for the night 
he said with a &mile: 


" I guess we broke about even. The Second Pres- 
byterian is on your side of the argument, and Saint 
Cecilia on mine." 

They had visited two difTerent Sunday Scliools, 
and Harvey had also frankly confessed hi.^ surprise at 
what he had noted in those schools. 

"The Sunday Schools, how about them?" 

Harvey replied. "I haven't been to a Sunday 
School since I was a boy. It looks like a great 
improvement to me. I'll concede that much." 

For the next two months, Stanton and Harvey 
faithfully visited all the preaching services, Sunday 
Schools and prayer-meetings they could attend. 
Twice Stanton was recognized. Once Harvey met a 
number of mill men in a mission established by one 
of the churches. In all, they succeeded in visiting 
twenty-five different churches, most of them Harvey's 
selection. Lenox had over one hundred Protestant 
Church buildings and a Catholic Cathedral. This 
latter they also visited, and each man in his own 
fashion was impressed by what he saw there. 

At the end of the time, Harvey confessed to Stan- 
ton that the experiment had been an eye-opener to 

" I'll give in to you on part of what you say. Some 
of these churches seem to be doing Hrst-rate service. 
That prayer-meeting at the Second Presbyterian is a 
surprise to me. I had no idea there was such an insti- 
tution in Lenox. And the same is true of the First 
Baptist and the First Christian. I don't know as I 


, ^AtV ^ 

'I 1 




feel particularly struck with any of the prcachinjf, 
but it sicined to nic most of it was sincere enough and 
■ — well — I'm willing to concede I was mistaken on 
several counts, because I didn't know." 

Stanton was naturally pleased with Har.ey': con- 

" I wish every workingman In the nills could have 
the same experience, Harvey. Only two days ago I 
heard some of the men sneering at preachers as a 
useless quantity, — in the profession for the social 
distinction, the ease and the laziness of it, and so 
forth. Why, do you know, Harvey, you do know, 
that scores of foremen in the mills get higher wages 
to-day than half the ministers in Lenox, and do not 
for one minute begin to lead such self-denying lives. 
The ministers of Lenox, on the average, spend ten 
times as much money and time in relieving distress 
and helping the poor of Lenox and of other countries 
as the mill owners or operatives ever think of spend- 
ing. The average salary of the ministers in the 
United States is less than a thousand dollars a year, 
and it certainly cannot be said of the majority of 
them that they are selfish money-seekers or social 
parasites, yet you and the majority of mill men and 
what you call the wage-earners are always bitter or 
indifferent toward the ministry, as if you had a 
special grudge against them, and you have no use for 
the Church, about which most of you know absolutely 
nothing. Do you think it is strange, if after a good 
many years of this sort of treatment from the masses, 

f * *-■ 'Wl^f'^ 


the hanl-workin^, *»olt'-flnivinj3f iikm nnd wouicmj in 
the churches, hoth iniiiistci^ and nu-mhcrs, hcgin to 
get a httle rc«»tivo, uiul think it is about time some- 
thing wu'^ said about the selfishness and narrowness 
of the trade-um'ons and the lal)or movement gen- 
erally? Instead of asking the old questioi., 'Why 
don't the Churches reach the masses?' some of us 
begin to think it is time to change it to this, 'Why 
don't the masses join the Church uhich Je.sus loved, 
and do as he commanded them?' Instead of that yon 
know, Harvey, your trade-union ortjiiiii/Mt ion is just 
as selfish a thing as the mill company ever w,i< Vou 
say you are fighting for your rights. But in doing 
it you pay very little attention to the rights of any 
one else." 

"These be strong words, Brother Stanton," said 
Han'ey, his dark eyes glcwing. 

" But they are true," Stanton said vigorously. 
" Your trade-union as it exists in Lenox is a Godless 
institution. You are after nothing but bread alone. 
You do not have any higher motive than Wrightam 
and his tribe have, and the result of your success, as 
his has been, is emptiness and bitterness of soul. 
Harvey, the whole of this Labor and Capital struggle 
is a terrible comment on the unregenerated man. I 
Bee no hope for its final settlement right until it is 
settled on the basis of a real brotherly love between 
men, and neither Labor or Capital knows anything 
about this vet. It is a strife, a hattlf. a stn^crcrlp 
between two great forces. Tiie essential factor of 





Love is not present in the mind or thought of either 
side. It does not exist in their hearts." 

"Maybe you are right," Harvey said, much to 
Stanton's surprise. "But perhaps we have not 
reached that phase of our evolution yet. The most 
we can do at present is to fight power with power. 
Maybe the love will come afterwards." 

"It is not the way to arrive at it," Stanton 
answered with a sigh. Their conference ended and 
they parted for a time, Harvey to complete the 
organization of the Union, which was about to dic- 
tate new terms to the company, and Stanton to go 
out again on a new lecture engagement, which took 
him into several large cities. 

During his absence from home he grew more and 
more impressed with the truth he had tried to impress 
on Uarvey. The only real hope for a better society 
was the regenerated individual. Coming back to 
Lenox after an absence of three weeks, he took counsel 
with the pastor of the Second Presbyterian Church 
and a few other ministers and prominent laymen, all 
good, earnest men, and the result was that within 
two weeks, Stanton, assisted by these men, had begun 
a series of evangelistic meetings in the old Rink down 
by the mills. 

Never had the pover of the Holy Spirit been so 
manifest from the beginning, as in these meetings, 
which became afterwards famous in the annals of 
Lenox history. Night after night the old building 
was crowded, anc' Stanton preached a simple but 


profound Gospel of Love. Hundreds of the mill men 
began to respond to his appeal, made every night, to 
accept Christ as Lord and Master in every act of life. 
There was no cheap and noisy excitement. Some- 
times over the breathless audience the Spirit's power 
and presence were so manifest that the most ignorant 
scoffers felt them and were melted to tears and resolve. 
Even the Lenox Times conceded that never before 
in its history had Lenox witnessed such a remarkable 
religious experience. 

It was in the meeting at the close of the first week 
of this manifestation of divine presence that Stanton 
first saw Harvey. He had not been present before to 
Stanton's knowledge. He waited until the service 
was over and the last man gone. His manner was 
full of repressed excitement, and Stanton easily saw 
that Harvey's former friendship, amounting even to 
a brotherly esteem, had all disappeared. 

In place of the old attitude was a hard, angry man- 
ner that made no effort at concealment. 

The two men were alone in the building, except for 
the janitor, who was at the other end of the room at- 
tending to some of duties preparatory to closing up. 

Harvey came near to Stanton, and in a voice of 
passion exclaimed, " These meetings have got to stop ! 
They are interfering with my plans ! And either you 
or I, Mr. Stanton, have got to answer for it. But in 
any case, I say the meetings have got to stop ! " 

Stanton made no reply immediately, but looked at 
Harvey calmly. 





I ' 



A FTER a little, Stanton said, " Do you realize 
/-% what you are saying?" 

"Perfectly well. I say these meetings have 
got to stop," 

Again Stanton looked at Harvey silently. Harvey 
stepped up a little nearer, menacingly. Then it was 
that Stanton smelt the fumes of liquor and under- 
stood that he had been drinking. The knowledge of 
this fact explained Harvey's unusual excitement ; but 
it disturbed Stanton deeply, as he had never known 
Harvey to be guilty of the habit. If he ha-i been 
sober he would not be in any doubt as to the ri^^t 
course to take with him. As it wa» he was in tl^ 
dark, and the uncertainty in hi* mind left only one 
thing clear. That was to avoid a quarrel in which t^ 
should be obliged to regret any aet of his own m 
the after-time when Harvey had come to his senses. 

" Harvey, these meetings are m>ir in f^ie control of 
more than human forces. It i« not in my power or 
yours to stop them. It ,« Gwl's *,orJ<, ai'vd must go 

" But I say they must stop ! Do you hear .^ ^op ' 
The men are gettirig away from me. What right 
have you to sttp between the men and me? Thert 




are over 5000 men who have been subject to my 
orders. No man on earth shall rob nie of this power. 
I got it by hard knocks, and neitlier you or any other 
man has a right to take it away from n,...'' 

" How do these meetings interfere with your plans, 
Brother Harvey?" Stanttm asked, thinking that 
possibly Harvey would be ied on to a recital of sup- 
posed grievances which could be answered. 

" How do they ! " Hancy exclaimed afigrily. " Lis- 
te to me. The Lenox company is about to consoli- 
date the mills at Oreville. But in '' .g it thev will 
reduce the force here to SOOO nnn. . n,it will throw 
over 2000 men out of work. The Union at Oreville, 
together with the one here in Lenox, is strong enough, 
financially, to start a co-operative mill company of its 
own. We have a combined capital enough to build 
and operat#> our own plant. We have the skilled labor 
to run it af*«rr it is built. Why should we slave for 
«f. B. Wrigiitam & Co., when we can work on our own 
a^mxnt for our mutual profit. My plan lias been to 
strike Ijoth iiere and at Orevilh'. Then force the fight 
on the company and >♦ i* know wc are nut dependent 
on it. If possWf , to </-^]c k by a withdrawal of 
every skilled wor!<man. TV plan of the Lenox com- 
pany to drop »000 mii) k » .v>ld blooded scheme to 
redw* the .,-,fput «// vf'm^ ^ |,/r-s on the product. 
I've no* m»4< our plan i/thiie ffi But these meet- 
mfp are weanwig tlie men a*>»y ttom it. Hundreds 
«fr iifjt wi#}ng to agrtr to it now." Ha rvey struggled 
ueajrer 4x4 'mm4 his arm t^^/eatenmgly. " .Mr. Stan- 



ton, no man loves power more than I do. I've lived 
all my life to get it, and I don't intend to lose it 
through the sniveling drivel of evangelist revival 
meetings. I say these meetings must stop. It's up 
to you and me now." 

The janitor of the building had finished his work 
at the end of thu room, and was coming down towards 
the platform to put out some lights there. 

Stanton, for the first time in his life, was deeply and 
honestly perplexed. At the heart of his perplexity 
there was also a profound sorrow. He had been grow- 
ing to love Harvey, and had looked forward to the 
man's development along the personal Christian way 
of life. The whole aspect of the unexpected situation 
that now confronted him was in the nature of a shock 
that came so suddenly as to leave him unprepared. 

But he called out to the janitor, « William, I want 
to see this brother alone for a while. Won't you 
kindly wait in the coat-room until we are through?" 
The janitor, who was used to the habit of the after- 
conferences which had been a feature of the meetings, 
turned aside into the coat-room, and Stanton breathed 
easier at the removal of a witness to the act he now 

He turned to Harvey and smiled in his old fashion, 
laying his hand on Harvey's arm, they were so near. 

" Brother, no wrong can come to the men or you 
because of these meetings. Your plan, if right, will 
not suffer in the end if God's wilj is done by voa and 
the men. Leave the outcuuie with him. " 1 canttot 




stop these meetings. The breath of God is in them. 
It would be blasphemy to attempt it. It would " 

" Take that, you coward — you preacher ! " Harvey 
suddenly yelled, and with the words he struck Stan- 
ton twice, savagely, on the mouth. 

Fredrick Stanton had always preached the doc- 
trine of non-resistance, but he had never been called 
upon to practice it in a concrete form He was fully 
Harvey's equal in physical strength and courage. 
He was his superior under the conditions that wero 
now true of Harvey. For one brief instant the prim- 
itive man in him surged up red-handed, and all the 
hot-blooded savage in him cried out to give blow for 
blow. When that instant passed it left him standing, 
still outwardly pale, but as rigid and immovable as a 

Harvey had stepped back as if, as a matter of 
course, expecting attack. 

"Why don't you fight, preacher.? Strike me. 
It's your turn now ! " 

"Han'ey!" Stanton's voice thrilled even through 
the drunken, maddened senses of the labor leader. " I 
shall never strike you. ' Vengeance is mine. I will 
repay, saith the Lord.' " 

And then there took place a strange thing, as unex- 
plained afterward* by both men as if it had been in 
the realm of other world powers. Stanton took Har- 
vey by the ai-m, and, not being conscious that he was 
using any unusual strength, he led him to the door at 
ihf: rear of the platform, out through the small room, 




E_ .^'•■ 


and through that out upon the street. Harvey went 
as if dazed, uttering no word, making no strugg!- . 
Like one in a waking dream he staggered down 
street, and Stanton, after watching him a moment, 
went back into the Httle room and kneeled a few 
moments, wiping off the blood from his lips as he 
prayed : 

"O God, for Christ's sake, give me this man for 
my hire ! Forgive him, Lo:d, he knew not what he 
did ! O grant thy presence with all those poor crea- 
tures. O give the world that which alone can heal 
its hurts, and bind up its social wrongs with thy 

All through his prayer there floated the vision of 
the world that went its careless way, heedless of the 
passion of the Son of God ; but a eong went with the 
vision, and its recurrent refrain was one of hope and 
final victory. 

When he went home he meant to keep the incident 
from llildred, but the cut on his lips continued to 
bleed und he told her everything. 

Sne was deeply agitated. Since their marriage, 
Mildred Roaaey had grown to believe in her great 
stroag hustiand with more and better faith. Their 
married life iiad contained elements of pain. The 
estraiigemeiit ,he had suffered in the break between 
her uiother an-: herself had left its mark upon her in 
sprte of all her effort. Some of the things her hus- 
bHBd had done since hi« entrance on the public life she 
tried to with him, Imd not seemed to her always 


the best and wisest ; but not for one instant had she 
doubted his ability, his power, or his unswcl^ing 
fidehty to his convictions. Every event in his career 
added to her passionate devotion to him. The world 
for her had no other love equal to the one she embodied 
in him. Sh. dressed his wound, and cried over him u 
little as she hstened to his story. 

" This is something no one need know except Har- 
vey and ourselves. It is nothing. He will be sorry, 
and, if I mistake not, he will say so. Let it all work 

Yet not even Stanton, strong in the boundless 
affection of his wife, and sanguine of the future, 
anticipated Harvey's return into the old circle of 
friendship which had been so suddenly broken. 

The next evening was Friday, and Stanton went 
down to the meeting, feeling that it had reached a 
onsis. And truly never had Lenox witnessed such 
manifestations of the Holy Spirit's presence in the 
world. The old Rink was packed to its utmost limits. 
The sense of a physical silence was so vivid that those 
who were present confessed the next dav that the 
experience was absolutely new. Vet what less than 
this should the Christian expect .p The supernatural 
presence is definitely promised by the Son of God to 
his disciples. It is the sham, of Christendom that it 
continues to be so ignorant of this power after twenty 
centuries of the fact. And thousands are as much 
surpnsed and awed at the fact of the Holy Spirit's 
power as the scientists who find radium, or the world 




1 I 



that thrills over a new-found element, which has always 
been in existence, but has only within a few months 
been found out. 

Hundreds of men remained that night to confess 
Jesus Christ as Master. Stanton worked with them, 
emotion strong within him ; but he was not hysterical 
or foolishly excited. All his senses responded with 
alert, sane, well-poised eagerness as he thanked God 
for answer tr his prayers. He had longed to see such 
a day. The results were what he had always believed 
were necessary to the establishment of any real Broth- 

The next evening there was no meeting at the Rink. 
Saturday night had been reserved for rest. Sunday 
Stanton was to preach by invitation in his old pulpit. 
Dr. Sayers was out of the city, and the pulpit supply 
committee had urgently asked Stanton to take his 




THE invitation had moved Stanton, and touched 
him deeply. He knew well enough that in Saint 
Cecilia there was a strong and powerful opposi- 
tion to his < onvictions on the social question. But on 
the other hand, even in that centre of eccleciastical 
formality and Christless Christianity, there were souls 
that were trying to find the light. He could name a 
few prominent business men who were honestly dis- 
turbed over their duties and responsibilities towards 
the men they employed. There was also a large 
group of young people in Saint Cecilia with whom 
Stanton had always been familiar and popular. 
They had always regretted his resignation, and some 
of them, like the young collegian Arthur Harwood, 
had imbibed Stanton's theories. 

As he rose to preach that Sunday morning he was 
touched at the sight of the great audience, where even 
the faces of those who opposed him seemed to look 
kindly at him. Wrightam was there, much to Stan- 
ton's surprise. Wrightam belonged to another 
church, and Stanton did not remember ever seeing 
him in Saint Cecelia before. 

The remarkable meetings at the Rink had made an 
impression on aU Lenox. Even Saint Cecilia had 





shared in the inter'^st and the results of thut d it- 
pouring of the Holy Spirit. But Sainton's hcurt 
longed for n manifestation of that power -wilii the 
other end of society. Why should the Gospel be 
preached in revivals to the masses, the workiii^im>n, 
the crowds of poor and outu ardly depraved and sin- 
ful, and there be no revival >trvices i'or the silk- and 
satin-clothed, for the people that wore diamonds and 
lived in marble-faced houses and rode iii aut()ni()))iles 
and yachts and kept several servants? Did they not 
need revivals as much as any mill operative or saloon- 
keeper or gambler or fallen woman? Did not J. B. 
Wrightam, the magnate, who broke the Golden Rule 
in business every day of his life, need to be converted 
just -he same as Johnny Parr, the Lenox gambler, 
who had fleeced the young men of Lenox off and 
on for twenty years? What was the difference? 
W^rightam was a captain of industry, who manipu- 
lated commercial enterprises in such a way that half 
the stock in the concerns was '.vntered, and when the 
slump came, Wrightam and his few friends on the 
inside of the deal pocketed the immense profits while 
the smaller concerns went bankrupt, and individuals 
were ruined by the hundred; Parr played cards and 
roulette and faro with his victims, and by manipulat- 
ing the gambhng macliines so as to make the machines 
win in the long run, pocketed the profits. The only 
difference between the robbery of Wrightam's gamb- 
ling and Pair's was simply this: Wrightrtji had more 
capital, and his hold-up of the public was on a la ^er. 




more sppctacular scale. In other words, he stole more 
from the public than Parr did. Was that the reason 
Parr was not admitted to the respectable church and 
society circles and Wrightam was.? Yet on the unques- 
tioned witness of those who knew the dishonest and 
brazen robbery of some of our well-known captains of 
industry in America to-day, these conunercial gam- 
blers have been guilty of theft on such large scale 
that, according to President Iladley of Yale, there is 
need to-day of a social boycott of grafters in high 
places. President Iladley, in his strictures on the 
high-class guniblcr and pirate in coirim"riial circles, 
calls attention to the fact that in Dante's Inferno the 
worst punishment falls upon those people who use 
positions of power and trust to make money for them- 

All those thoughts mingled in Stanton's mind as he 
preached that morning. And his message was 
Christ's message to men of wealth and responsibility. 
Taking the life of Ilarwood for his text, he related 
as much as was public of the man's strange experi- 
ence, and gave a graphic picture of his life as an 
operative in Lenox lower mill. He then went on to 
speak of the possibilities that Mie present situation in 
Lenox otfered to both Labor and Capital to come 
together on a basis of brotiierly love. 

" The Holy Spirit is here in Lenox to-day, as truly 
as he was in Jerusalem on the day of Pentecost. He 
has reached by his marvelous power hundred- of men 
who work with their hands in the mills. What of tlie 









1 2.5 



^^^ 1653 East Main Street 

S^S Rochester, Ne« York 14609 USA 

'-gS (716) 48? - 030n - Phone 

^= (716) 2P8 - 5989 -Fox 

i ' 

^ ■' k 


men who direct the labor? What of the men and 
women of wealth and social position who, if they will 
only let God use them, can now moot these forces of 
Labor and remove the causes of strife and hatred that 
now exist? The spirit pleads with you, rich, cultured 
men and women of Lenox to-day. It is not my voice 
you hear. I am but a poor and insignificant voice 
trying to make his message to you clear. Within 
this church society are over a hundred men and women 
whose combined wealth is easily reckoned to be over 
fifty millions of dollars. This is God's money. It 
does not belong to you. IMany of you are spending it 
in ways that are not pleasing to the owner of it. You 
are wasting it in foolish amusements, in useless luxu- 
ries and — I say it in love — in sinful extravagances. 
God calls on you here to-day to lay these riches in con- 
secrated offerings at his feet. As in the first days of 
the history of the Christian Church, so now the test of 
your Christian discipleship consists in the proof you 
give to Christ of following Him in everything, of 
giving to God in service all that you have." 

Stanton went on, and in the plainest language 
spared not. He talked out the plain truth concerning 
the sins of that great, fashionable church, of which 
he confessed he had once been the cowardly pastor. 
He called commercial dishonesty by its right name. 
He pleaded with the people to confess their sins of 
pride and self-indulgence and haughtiness and lack 
of brotherly love. In the tenderest and most winsome 
manner he referred to the loving relations that he had 





once sustained to the church, and closed his sermon by 
referring again to Ilarwood, wliO was never so liappy, 
so useful, or so truly great as when he gave his own 
life to save another. 

Men and women all over the churrh that day hid 
their faces, not daring to K ik up, moved and angered 
and stirred to conviction. No one of the pastors of 
Saint Cecilia since its founding had ever preached 
that message to it. Stanton in his closing prayer 
wrestled with God for results. Would the Spirit 
touch these men and women as he had those down on 
the Rink.'* Would they permit him to? Or would 
the pride and social selfishness of years drive away 
forever from these souls the most blessed experience a 
human being had ever had ? Was the old fact always 
to be taken account of, " How hardly shall they that 
trust in riches enter into the Kingdom of God".'' 
Was it always going to be thus true that not many 
wise, not many great, not many noble are called.? 
Must Christianity always work from the bottom up? 
Yet what hope to reach any solution for the Labor 
problem where only one side was in an attitude to act 
in a brotherly fashion ? If the men of muscle and the 
men of money did not both and all together act to 
help one another, what could be done.'' There were 
rights on both sides. There were wrongs on both 
sides. Capital was selfish. Labor was selfish. Cap- 
ital had too much of the products of Labor. Labor 
was now realizing its opportunity, waking up from 
its giant's sleep of the centuries, and, careless of its 


1 '. • 



great strength, was beginning to throttle industry. 
If Capital had usurped power that never belonged to 
it, no less Labor, through its trade-unions, was arro- 
gantly assuming tyrannical functions. Each side 
needed to be converted. No earthly power could do 
this. Hatred, prejudice, selfishness do not yield to 
man-m.ide schemes to bring in a social millennium. 
Right here God is needed. No one else will answer. 
Will these souls in Saint Cecilia, used to luxury, 
priding themselves on their fashion, will thty take up 
the rough and heavy cross of sacrifice.? They will 
have to change the habits of years to do it. Will 
they do it.? Yet if they will not, what hope for 
society that it may be filled with the Brotherhood ? • 
The congregation went away from that morning 
service as if from a deep sensation. It came back 
again in the evening, and crowded Saint Cecilia floor 
and galleries as it had not been crowded for years. 
Members of Saint Cecilia who had not been to the 
evening service for years were present that night. 
Stanton preached on the love of God for all his chil- 
dren, emphasizing the need of repentance and restitu- 
tion as going hand in hand with forgiveness. When 
the service closed people went out very slowly. He 
had made no call for decisions, it had not seemed best 
for him to do so. But as he went home, after earnest 
greetings from some of his former parishioners, he 
was accompanied part way by a member of Saint 
Cecilia who had always been in close sympathy with 


* -» -— 



" This has been a great day for Saint Cecilia, Dr. 

" Yes, I hope it has. My prayer has been for real 

" Wrightam was out to both services. Did you see 

" Yes, who knows " 

" It would be a miracle." 

" But no more than the miracle of Johnny Parr's 
conversion last week." 

" Yes, greater. Wrightam has more to repent of. 
His genuine conversion would have infinite results 
on the Labor question in Lenox. Do you think it is 
possible .P " 

"All things are possible with God," answered 
Stanton gravely. 

He parted from the friend, and when he reached 
home began to discuss the outcome with Mildr d 
of Wrightam's possible ccnversion to a genuine 
Christian life. They had been talking only a few 
minutes, when a knock at the door called Stanton out 
into the hall, and on opening the door he was as- 
tonished to see Harvey standing on the porch. 

" I don't want to come in," Harvey said. 

"Why, wife and I are alor Come in, Harvey," 
Stanton said in such a mattei . . -fact tone that Har- 
vey, after hesitating a moment, came in. 

His face was sombre, as usual; but there was a 
struggling look of shame that spoke eloquently of the 
inward feeling. 

' ii 

Mi # 


,1' , ! 

if ( " 


Mildred greeted him kindly, and invited him to lay 
aside his overcoat and hat and draw up to the open 

Without a word he complied and the three sat down. 

"Of course you understand, Dr. Stanton, I don't 
expect to be forgiven and all that rot. Even if you 
did it, which I don't ask, I could not forgive myself, 
so that would leave me right where I am now. But I 
am willing to do something to make myself feel a 
little more cc.fortable." He said it with a grim 
self-accusation that impressed Stanton painfully. 

" It is not necessary, Brother Harvey. I have no 
feeling of resentment towards you and you need 
not " 

"I knew what you would say of course. What's 
the use? But I wanted to let you know I was willing 
to do something, so I wrote out an account of the 
incident for the Lenox Times. I didn't want you to 
think it had been worked up by some one else." To 
Stanton's astonishment, Harvey handed over the arti- 
cle, and added, "Read it out loud. I want Mrs. 
Stanton to hear it." 

Stanton was fearful at first that Harvey had been 
drinking again. But looking at him carefully, 
noting the dark face, the deep-set eyes, the grim 
rigidity of the whole figure, he was soon convinced 
that Harvey was sober. 

" 'Last Thursday night at the Rink, at the close of 
the meeting, Bruce Harvey, the President of the 
trade-union, had a disgraceful altercation with Dr. 




Stanton. Harvey had been drinking, and charged 
Dr. Stanton with an attempt to destroy his, Harvey's, 
influence over the mill men through the revival serv- 
ices now being held in Lenox. Dr. Stanton tried to 
reason with Harvey, but he refused to listen, and 
finally struck the minister twice in the face. Dr. 
Stanton did not return the blow. The affair was not 
witnessed by any one except the two men. It was a 
cowardly assault, and deserves the honest contempt 
of every man, woman and child in Lenox." 

"Is that all right? Is it strong enough? I 
signed my name to it, you see." Harvey spoke the 
words with a dogged harshness of manner that dis- 
turbed Stanton more than the most abject appeal for 
mercy could have done. 

"Yes, it's strong enough," Stanton finally said, 
"but it lacks warmth," and with the words he sud- 
denly threw the manuscript on the coals of the open 

" It is not necessary, Harvey. Do you think I will 
permit a thing like that? You do not know me. 
Does not God forgive us a thousand times worse 
things than this? Shall we men treat each oth-r less 
mercifully ? " 

Harvey's face worked strangely. Mildred added 
her word to that of her husband. 

" Mr. Harvey, you and Mr. Stanton must be friends 
again. You cannot afford to quarrel. Together you 
-an do so much for the cause. Why not take Mr. 
Stanton at his word and resume the old relations as if 



* .r'ijM 


„ t 


nothing had over happened. I never knew a man wlio 

had such a poor nieinory for injuries as my husband. 

You should see some of the letters of abuse he gets 

and hear his answers to them. His replies are always 

so friendly that I have often wished I might be present 

when the letters are received by the people who poured 

out pages of abuse. How silly they must feel to sit 

there expecting to get blown up and instead of that it 

is a bouquet thrown at them. It is fun to do that. 

There is nothing Mr. Stanton or I would appreciate 

more than a good forgettcry on your part, and you 

need not fear for ours." 

Harvey listened with head cast down, visibly 
affected. At last he blurted out, "But while this 
may be all right for you, where do I escape? God 
might forgive a man, but what if tne man cannot 
forgive himself ? Curse the drink! It makes me a 
fool every time I touch it." 

" Leave it alone then," Stanton said sternly. " But 
all that's past, Harvey. Bury it. We expect to. 
Think of Harwood. In Christ's name, Brother Har- 
vey, I beseech of you let God into your soul. Get 
the blessing you need. Don't despise the Spirit." 
Harvey was agitated. 

" I can't ever be a Christian. My whole life habits 
are contrary to the idea. Don't try to convert me. 
I'll— I'll count it an undeserved honor if you two 
will permit me to call you friends, but as for the 
other " 

Stanton eyed him racily, and without many words 



allowed him to go on giving his version of the events 
that had led up to his assault on Stanton. When 
he was through he rose to go, but when Stanton held 
out his hand Harvey held back. 

" Try me for a while," he said doggedly. 

"Mr. Harvey," said Mildred spiritedly, "you do 
not treat us fairly. Give us credit for honesty at 
least. We are not willing to wait." 

" All right," Harvey answered as if relieved. He 
shook hands with them both, and went away leaving 
behind an impression that, while he was willing to 
re-open the friendship of the past, he was hardening 
his heart against the Holy Spirit md trying to fortify 
his mind with every known excuse for not yielding to 
his gentle but firm summons to put Jesus Christ on the 
throne of his life as Lord. 

He had been gone only a fev minutes, and Stanton 
was beginning to lock up below preparatory to going 
upstairs, when the bell ranp n' 

Stanton opened the door, i.> confronted by the 
oldest son of J. B. Wrigh young man about 

twenty years of age. He had evidently been run- 
ning, for he spoke with difficulty. 

" Father wants to know if you can come over and 
see him." 

"Yes, certainly. When.?" 

« Now, right ofF, Dr. Stanton." 

"Is your father ill?" asked Stanton, as he hur- 
riedly put on his coat. 

" I don't know," replied young Wrightam. 



,( ■ f 


Stanton was surprised at his answer, but said noth- 
ing. He stepped into the sitting-room and told 
Mildred where he wns going. At once she said, " Is 
it possible Mr. Wrightam has been touched by to-day's 

" With God all things are possible," said Fredrick 
Stanton as he went out. He recalled, as he hurried 
on through the darkness, that he hud said the same to 
his parishioner concerning Wrightam. Was he to see 
that miracle of i- generation repeated in the case of 
this man.? It seemed incredible, but his heart prayed 
for the event as he walked on. 


^. ftffLf^'^^mams^EjmmmmmmLWf^, : 



WHEN Stanton reached Wrightam's resi- 
dence, the young man took him at once to 
his father's " den," and then hurriedly went 
into the library as if afraid of being called in to 
witness a scene he dreaded. 

As Stanton stepped into the room he thought at 
first that no one was there. There was only one 
elect "ic light burning instead of a large cluster, and 
Wrightam was sitting In the far corner of the room. 

He did not move until Stantcn had advanced into 
the corner of the room. Then he got up, turning a 
face toward his visitor — a face that had one predomi- 
nant mark, the tiark of fear. 

He held out hi. hand. 

" I am glad you came, Dr. Stanton," he sai^ hur- 
riedly. And then, after an awkward moment, : "ud- 
denly went to the door, and shut and locked it. , hen 
he faced Stanton again he asked him to be seated, but 
himself walked up and down with growing agitation. 

" Dr. Stanton, you will not understand me. But I 
sent for you because I am afraid." 

"Afraid! Of what?" 

" That is something I do not know. But all the 
evening I have been oppressed. I never had a premo- 



^wm""- ~ ^*j-sw.^»M -^ 





nition in all my life. It is the farthest from my 

iimke-up to have fears for tlic future. But I cannot 

shake off tiiis feeling. And I sent for you to sec if 
you could help me." 

Stfinton, in growing astonishment, looked intently 
at the man. Some strange experience had taken pos- 
session of him. There was the same heavy, coarse 
physical outward bearing that had always distin- 
guished J. B. Wrightam. He was a college-educated 
man ; but certain grain of vulgar crudeness, a harsh 
fibre of personality had clung to him in spite of the 
culture of the schools. Nothing but the grace of 
Almighty God could soften this coarseness, and up to 
this time in his life J. B. Wrightam was absolutely 
without this grace. He was as much a pagan as any 
man that ever lived in any age. And Stanton, sitting 
there that night in that luxurious room, witnessing 
some remarkable conflict in this man's soul, was, in 
spite of his faith, startled at the transforma- 
tion in this captain of industry, this commercial high- 
wayman, a nominal church member and social aristo- 
crat, who knew absolutely nothing of the Christ rule 
^f life, and so far had been a selfish, proud, worldly 
man, existing solely for riches and power and pleasure. 

" Dr. Stanton, I am not prepared to die and meet 
my God. Do you believe in a final judgment." " 

" I do. I believe not only in a final judgment, but 
in a day-by-day judgment." 

Wrightam stopped in his walk. 

"It is the final judgment I fear. What is this I 




am expcrin.'-inK? <"»" you ttll i,u?" Tlio question 
came us if forced from Jiim hy some inward terror. 

"Is it conviction, or only fear of piim'sliment 
caused by some unexpected entrance of thoii^rht of 
the future into n guilty life?" Stnnt(m asked himself. 
When he spoke, it with more caution than kind- 
ness; for he was very much in the dark as to 
Wrightam's condition. 

" Can you give me the cause of this feeling.' Have 
you any date for its beginning.'" 

After a moment's hesitation, VVrightam said, "i 
think it dates from your preach irjg this morning." 

"And you say the predonunant feeling you now 
have is fear.' " 

" A fceh'ng of terror. I cannot sleep. I have been 
thinking all day of Harvood. He dictl doing his 
duty as he saw it. I cannot die tliat way or any 
other." ^ 

Stanton determined to go at the root of the matter 
and be frankly plain of speech. 

"Mr. VVrightam, are you afraid to die, as you say, 
because of the selfish, Godless life you have lived, or 
simply because you fear punishment from an anery 
God.?" ^^ 

VVrightam stopped again in his walk and his face 
flamed up for a moment with passion. It would have 
been no gr« at surprise to Stanton then if the man had 
struck him or ordered him out of the house. But a 
sort of convulsion shook him, and he answered Stan- 
ton's question by asking him one. 








. ri. 


>« t 

"Have you ever felt helpless in the presence of 
some impending danger? Helpless as a child 
in the grasp of a giant? Then you know how I 

He resumed his walk, and Stanton persisted in his 

" But do you feel convicted of guilt ? Is your pres- 
ent feeling prompted by a knowledge of God as a 
punisher of sin ? " 

" I do not know," Wrightam answered, as If in de- 
spair. " I know that I fear with unspeakable dread 
the thought of death." 

Stanton was silent, thinking hard. He had never 
Tvot a case like this, and he kept praying, as he 
watched Wrightam, that wisdom might be given him 
to say the right word, to do the right thing. 

"Mr. Wrightam, would you be afraid to die if 
you knew you had always tried to do the will of 

' 1 don't know. I only kno\> the fact of my pres- 
ent fear." 

" Do you believe God is love? " 

Wrightam did not seem to hear, and Stanton asked 
the question again. 

"I don't know. What do I know about God?" 
He turned towards Stanton fiercely. " Curse you ! " 
he exclaimed suddenly. " It is all your doing. What 
do I care for your social gospel? It is all rot. 
Leave me alone. What shall J. B. Wrightam have 
to do with your theories of a Brotherhood? It is all 



intangible, preposterous, impossible. Do you hear? 
Get out of my house, you miserable meddler with 
things that don't concern you!" He shook his fist 
in Stanton's face, and every mean demon of hate and 
felfisliness and past riot of evil ambitions, and, above 
all, of gold-thirst and greed, struggled up through 
the soul to battle for their own in the presence of the 
Christ of God, the Holy One, who had como up to the 
tombs to unchain this maniac and set him free and 
clothed in his right mind. 

Something of this great truth gleamed instantly on 
the soul of Stanton as Wrightam confronted him. 
Under the strong emotion of the scene, he had risen 
from his seat and ;aken a step towards the door. He 
knew Wrightam would not offer him any personal 
violence, but he was still doubtful as to the extent of 
conviction that he struggled to smoulder. 

" You sent for me. Why ? " 

"I don't know! I fear! O my God! The fear! 
Dr. Stanton ! Pardon me ! Do not leave me alone ! 
Pray for me! Do something! I am not ready to 

Stanton grasped at that one word, '' Pray ! " He 
kneeled. And his prayer was based on a simple, 
childlike faith in the promise of the Holy Spirit. 
He did not know that Wrightam had gone over by the 
window and was crouching down on the wide window 
seat, a remarkably strange figure as compared with 
lus usual bold, aggressive, assumptive manner. 

But when the prayer was over and Stanton had 


^\'i j 






risen, the sight of Wrightam, silent and immovable, 
struck him as a new phase of an extraordinary even- 
ing's experience. 

He waited for the magnate to speak, but Wrightam 
was dumb. Then Stanton spoke again, gently, but 
Wrightam still kept the same attitude. What was 
passing in his soul.' Some infinite struggle was being 
waged between the unequal forces of right and wrong, 
between demons and angels, between the devil and the 
Son of God. What battleground more historic, more 
terrific in its charge and countercharge, more tragic 
in its defeats, more glorious in its victories ! A soul 
that for forty-five years had allowed hell's sullen, but 
exultant spirits to camp on God's holy ground could 
not, without a rebellion that partook of downright 
revolution, dethrone the usurping forces and put the 
rightful Prince in his own place. Stanton, awed at 
the sight, in spite of the marvels of regeneration he 
had witnessed in the mill men, felt as if the sccn*^ were 
almost too sacredly personal to view. He spoke to 
Wrightam again; getting no answer, he walked 
toward the door, saying to himself, " I will leave him 
alone with God to fight out the battle." At the door, 
as he turned the key in the lock, he said aloud, " I am 
going. Brother Wrightam. If you need me, send for 


Still no word or sign that Wrightam was conscious 
of Stanton's presence. He did not move or turn his 
head. Stanton went out into the hall, shutting the 
door of the "den," and as he was going out of the 




house, Wriglitam's wife came downstairs and stopped 
at the foot of them. With a gesture slie beckoned 
Stanton to wait. The sight of tliis woman reminded 
Stanton with a shock of what was in store for 
Wrightam in case his soul was won in the battle now 
being desperately waged only a (ew feet away. 

Mrs. Wrightam was a beautiful woman, magnifi- 
cently decorated, or disfigured, according as you have 
been brought up to regard it, with expensive jewelry. 
Her whole attitude was one of superiority as a member 
of that most select inner circle of the most fashionable 
Lenox society, that revolved in a constant succession 
of parties, receptions, dinners, theatres, fads, dress 
parade, a surface knowledge of books and events, a 
little religious observance in morocco-covered prayer 
books during Lent, and a total disregard of all Chris- 
tian teaching on the subject of humility, sacrifice, 
true prayer service, and the giving of one's self for 
the redemption of the world. What were the Lenox 
mills to the wife and daughter of J. B. Wrightam.'* 
Nothing, absolutely nothing but a source of revenue 
to the Wrightam family and its need of luxuries. Aa 
to the men and women who worked there, who lived in 
the tenements, who were at the centre of the indus- 
trial whirlpool that sucked them in and out, Mrs. 
Wrightam had no thought except that of a turbulent 
M'ass that fouglit her husband's interests, and might 
possibly endanger his financial profits. Can you 
imagine a creature, gifted with wonderful physical 
graces, clothed with garments that were representative 


> ■ i 


■ i 





1 'i 

'1. § i'> 

' ■; \ 





of a whole year's salary of hundreds of honest public 
servants, goino- through a world filled with God's 
need, and absolutely having no higher or larger 
thought of life every day than how she might increase 
her social standing as the leader of the most haught}', 
exclusive and wealthy section of Lenox society ? This 
was J. B. Wrightam's wife. She had been divorced 
from her first husband on account of incompatibility 
of temper, and she had married the mill magnate, so 
society said, on account of his great wealth. Her 
two children were at home with her, Alfred, the young 
man who had summoned Stanton that night, and 
Eileen, the daughter, two years younger. 

"Dr. Stanton. Is Mr. Wrightam ill— or ?" 

she said, pointing towards the door of tiic- " den." 

" I think not. He is " Stanton was uncertain 

what to say. How should this woman be made to 
understand what was happening to her husband.? 

"What is the matter with him? I have not seen 
him all day. He did not come in to dinner. I am 
going to see what is the matter." 

She took a step towards the door. Stanton spoke 
quietly. " I do not think Mr. Wrightam ought to be 
disturbed, madam. Excuse me, but I know some- 
thing of the situation, of the experience Mr. 
Wrightam is having — and " 

"What do you mean, sir.?" the woman spoke 
sharply. " Situation ! Experience ! What do you 
mean .? " 

" I mean, madam, that Mr. Wrightam is passing 



through a religious crisis in his life, and it would be 
wise to leave him alone just now." 

She paused an instant as she stood in the centre of 
the hallway, her tall figure gleaming under the lights. 

" Religious crisis ! " 

She laughed, as if the thought gave her some amuse- 
ment. " Religious crisis ! I think you are mistaken, 
sir. J. B. have a religious crisis ! It would be a 
miracle ! " 

' It is a miracle, madam," Stanton said, looking at 
her steadily. " In that room to-night your husband 
is confronting superhuman powers. He is waging 
the soul-battle of the ages. It is my prayer that God 
will win for him, as I believe he will." 

She looked back at Stanton, and then, without 
speaking, laughed again, and moved towards the door. 
At that instant, Eileen came down the stairs, and see- 
ing her mother and Dr. Stanton, paused on the last 

"Where is father.'" she inquired, suppressing a 

" He is in the * den,' and I am going in to see what 
is the matter," her mother answered. " Mr. Stanton, 
you are interfering where you have no right," she 
exclaimed haughtily. " I shall do as I please in this 
matter. What you have said is simply absurd. 
Eileen, Mr. Stanton sa^'s Mr. W rightam is passing 
through a religious experience ! I believe he is 
excited over these vulgar revival meetings, and possi- 
bly worried over the effect of them on the men." 

' rll 






"Madam," said Stanton, remaining where he first 
stood when Mrs. Wrightam came downstairs, " I have 
no authority in this house. But I most sincerely 
believe tliat if you go in there now, you will be guilty 
of an intrusion so great that the result of it may not 
be measured by eternity. There are some experiences 
in a man's life so sacred that not even his most inti- 
mate relatives have a light to witness them." 

He spoke so earnestly, withal in so calm and digni- 
fied a manner, that even the woman she was, she felt 
impressed. Still, her purpose was unchanged, and, 
after an instant of indecision, she stepped again 
towards the door. At that moment Alfred came into 
the hall, out of the library, which adjoined 
Wrightam's "den." 

"Mother," he said hurriedly, "what's the matter 
with father.? I thought a moment ago I heard him 
groan. Mr. Stanton," he continued, seeing the min- 
ister for the first time, " what is the matter with " 

" I am going in to see," Mrs. Wrightam exclaimed, 
and her hand was on the knob, when the door was 
opened by her husband. 





THE look on . '/rightam's face was one Stanton 
will never forget. The fear was gone. In the 
place of it was a look of redemption that made 
Stanton's heart leap up. 

Mrs. Wrightam had stepped back when the door 
opened so suddenly. Next instant she cried out, 
"John, what is the matter? Why have you shut 
yourself up so all day.?" 

He did not appear to see her or to hear her Quietly 
he spoke to Stanton, " Will you come back 'n here, Dr. 
Stanton.?" Then he seemed suddenly to be conscious 
of the presence of his wife. 

"Amy, I wish to be with Dr. Stanton a few 
moments. I am not ill. I will " 

He looked at his wife with an expression she had 
never seen in his face before, and the next moment he 
had gently drawn Stanton into the room and shut 
the door. 

Mrs. Wrightam paused a moment, as if minded to 
disregard her husband's wishes; but finally she turned 
and beckoned Eileen and Alfred to go upstairs with 

" Your father is not himself," she said to Eileen, as 
they entered the upstairs drawing-room. "I fully 



i- J 


!V I 



agree with Mrs. Rodney, that Dr. Stanton is a 
dangerous man. If J. B. should once get led away 
by his socialistic theories " 

"But there's no danger of that, mother," Eileen 
replied in astonishment. 

"I don't know what to think of J. B.'s conduct 
to-day," Mrs. Wrightam said petulantly. "Of 
course, I don't believe your father will e'.er do any- 
thing so foolish. Let me know, Alfred, the minute 
Mr. Stanton goes out." 

She went into her room, and Eileen and Alfred con- 
tinued to discuss the conduct of their father, and give 
some reason for it. 

Yet not even their most extravagant imagination 
for one moment approached the wonderful truth. 
J. B. Wrightam, the modern captain of industry, the 
trust promoter, the fii.dncial magnate, the commer- 
cial highwaymen, who gambled in millions as other 
men gambled in hundreds, had been bom again and 
was a new man in Christ Jesus. The Carpenter of 
Nazareth had measured power again with the demon- 
iac, and Wrightam was sitting clothed and in his right 
mind. He had come to himself, and for the first 
time since his prodigal riot and beggary among the 
swine he said, " I will arise and go to my Father." 

As the door had closed behind them, Stanton, realiz- 
ing even through the mystery of it what had occurred, 
grasped Wrightam's hand. 

" Thank God, Brother Wrightam ! '* 

"I can scarcely realize, Mr. Stanton, what has 



happened. But of one thing I am certain. From ^his 
time forth Jesus Christ is my Muster. Oh, Brother 
Stanton, tell me what I must do. Show me how to 
make my discipleship known ! " 

It was the old cry of Paul repeated, twenty cen- 
turies later — "Lord, what wilt thou have me to do?" 
It was the martyr cry of the ages, longing to make 
restitution in evidence of its honest faith. 

"There is much to say on that point. Brother 
VVrightam. Do you realize yet what it means to be a 
Christian .' " 

" I suppose not. One thing, however, is very clear 
to me, as I said. If Christ is my Master, my future 
cannot be anything like my past. All things have 
become new." 

Stanton looked at him as one might look at a man 
who had suddenly walked out of a grave where he had 
been buried forty-five years. 

"Of course, you understand the Christian life 
means " 

"Confession," interrupted Wrightam promptly. 
" Public confession. I am all ready to make it. Brother 
Stanton," he spoke with tears in his eyes, the first 
Stanton had ever seen there. " No one can understand 
the joy it will be to me to confess my Lord." 

" Your family " 

Across Wrightam's face a look of great and 
wonderful emotion passed. 

"I must tell my wife and children. But how can 
they understand -" 


! 'I 






For just an instant the old look of fear was on his 
face, then it was succeeded by the divine peace, that 
knows no fear. 

" Of course, your business, the other members of the 
mill company, the men, the — -'♦ 

" It will nil have to be changed, it cannot go on, the 
old hfcs the old practices. The whole of it n.ust be 
made new." 

"Do you comprehend, Brother VVrightam, how dif- 
ficult It will be for you to readjust your busines3 rela- 
tions with the other men who are still unchristian? 
Are you ready to face " 

"I am ready to face anything for my Saviour," 
said Wrightam, like a child. 

For a moment Stanton did not venture to break the 

Wrightam got up and began to pace the room. 
"This is a wonderful thing that nas happened to 
me, Stanton. I don't cheat my-lf by thinking it is 
.ypnotism or anything of that sort. I had an ex- 
perience m here while you were out of the room that I 
can't relate even to you. It was real, and it was sane 
and It was true. But it was supernatural. I saw all 
my past life, in all its hideous, unrelieved selfishness. 
It had not one redeeming quality. It was ghastly in 
Its paganism. As I cowered under it, I seemed to be 
lowered into a perfect hell of condemnation. A fear 
seized me, so great that what I felt when you came in 
first was nothing in comparison. For a few moments 
I su/Tered all the tortures of hell. I believe if any one 

A4 — 



had entered the room during tlioso moments, oven you 
or my wife, I would have tried to shake off tlifit 
horror, nnd in my madness have driven the Spirit of 
God forever out of my soid. But w hen those moments 
passed, I was permitted, by the graee of God, to see 
eternal forgiveness in the i'ucv of Christ." The tears 
rolled over W ightam's coarse face, glorified now by 
his unearthly cxperiince. "What I saw I cannot de- 
scribe, not even *.o you. Brother Stanton, but I shall 
never forget it. The most distinct, real, joyful ex- 
perience of my entire life was that moment when the 
Son of God said to me, ' Vour sins are forgiven.' It 
has seemed to me th-it I have been ilcne for several 
days. What is the time.'' " 

He suddenly took out his watch. Stanton mechani- 
cally took out his, also. 

"Only half-past eleven! Do you believe in 
miracles .' " 

" I believe in the miracle of regeneration," said 
Stanton softlj'. 

" It is wonderful ! wonderful ! My Jesus, I love 
thee, I know thou arl mine," Wrightam mur- 

The old hymn was the last one sung in Saint Cecilia 
that evening. To hear W' rightam repeat the words, 
to see the love-light of the crucified Son of God in his 
greed-hardened eyes, was like viewing tiic unseen glory 
of the dying robber on the Cross. 

Wrightam continued his walk for a few moments. 
Then he came up close to Stanton and said gently, 


i j 


; '! 


" Before you go, pray for mc. I shall need all the 
strength I can get for this new life." 

The two kneeled. Stanton's voice faltered in the 
first sentence, then went on, strong and joyful. As 
he prayed, the very air seemed pulsing with the divine 
presence; the Holy Spirit pervc led the room, and 
Stanton knew that VVrightani was conscious of that 
eternal fact with him. The knowledge charged his 
petition and framed hi .peal for the new life that 
now kneeled beside him. 

When he finished, before he had time to ask 
Wrightam to pray also, the converted mill owner 
began in a broken, but utterly childlike prayer, that 
brought sobs to Stanton's breast, and drove away the 
last faint lingering doubt lest the regeneration of 
Wrightam might be fictitious. No unsaved man i-ould 
have prayed like that. The physical and mental diffi- 
culty in the way of such a iiinn as Wrightam offering 
a prayer was something tremendous. But, that was 
nothing by the side of the spiritual lack, which such 
R. man as Wrightam had always knrwn. The very 
sound of his simple, beseeching, halting, but truthful 
petition for God's lielp, toi.ciied Stanton more than he 
had been touched in the case of Johnny Parr, the 
gambler. The two cases were not alike, excep! in the 
similar work of reconstruction which the Holy Spirit 
had wrought in the trto men. 

In the pause after Wrightam's prayer, again that 
pervasive, subtle, but strong and exhilarating reality 
of the r>i\'ine presence thrilled them. How strange, 

#/> -^ 



that, in a world which has scon this miracle so often 
performed, men are still skeptical of the fact of the 
loving and living God ! How sad, that, after the day 
of Pentecost has been recorded in human liistory, the 
Christian Church should be content with outward 
forms and ceremonies, miss the glory of llie super- 
natural, and shut its eyes lo the vision of that light 
that never was on sea or land! 

The two rose to their feet and faced each 
other. Stanton's hand went out lovingly to rest on 
Wrightam's shoulder. Wrightam's words came with 

"I owe you everything. You have helped me to 
the Cross. Men do not thank one another for such 
a thing as this. I have been a very sinful man. 
How sinful only God knows. But I don't doubt his 
forgiveness. Before him, Stanton, I want the rest 
of my life to be a witness for restitution and repent- 
ance, even if it brings me to the Cross on which my 
Saviour died. Pray for me, won't you? I cannot 
meet it alone." 

Stanton promised, moved to the depths by the great 
event, and went out into the hall. As he opened the 
front door, he saw Mrs. Wrightam coming down the 
stairs again. He waited a moment, thinking she had 
spoken his name, but she did not even look at him as 
she came slowly down the stairs. Eileen and Alfred 
were behind their mother, also coming down with her, 
for the purpose of seeing their father. Stanton's 
glimpse of the three compelled a vision of their inter- 

■ \ 





-■ : 

< ■ 

., : 






view with Wrightam, and the dramatic outcome of 
that scene fascinated his imagination all the way 

The first words Mildred uttered were, "Is it true? 
Has Mr. Wrightam really been converted?" 

" By the grace of God, I believe he has, Mildred. 
But has any one told you?" 

" No, Fredrick. But all the time you have been 
gone it has seemed to mc that the presence of the Holy 
Spirit was so real it filled all Lenox. What a 
wonderful event! What will be the result of Mr. 
Wrightam's conversion?" 

"I don't believe any one can tell. If he is really a 
Christian, as I believe he is, the fact may change the 
entire history of Lenox. Meanwhile, he has a tremen- 
dous cross to carry in the effort he will make to 
explain his change of life to his wife and children, and 
readjust his business relations and put them on a 
Christian oasis." 

"Oh, Fredric':, will he do that? Do you really 
think ae will succeed in making Mrs. Wrightam, 
Eileen and Alfred understand his new life? Mother 
used to know Mrs. Wrightam when she was Mrs. 
Lynde. I have heard mother say that her divorce was 
altogether wicked. This is a great deal for mother to 
say. But how will such a woman ever understand or 
accept the change in Mr. Wrightam's life? I can 
hardly believe that such a change has taken place. 
Are you sure of tlie fact?" 

" I believe there is no question as to the fact. It is 

'I I 




one of the miracles of tlie ages. It has occurred to 
reveal to this sinful city the superhuman life. The 
raising of Lazarus was not a greater revelation of 
God's power than the change that has taken place in 
this Mammon worshiper." 

When Mrs. Wrightam entered the "den" that 
night she was angry with several people. She was 
angry with her husband, because of his unexplained 
absence and his church attendance that day. She 
was angry at Stanton, because of his part in the 
revival meetings among the mill men, sm\ his possible 
influence over Wrightam. She was angry at Alfred, 
her son, for disobeying her command not to go to Dr. 
Stanton's that evening, at his father's request. At 
the bottom of her resentment at the Stantons rankled 
a bitterness towards Mrs. Rodney, who had never for- 
given hcj scandal of divorce and never accepted her 
leadership of Lenox society. 

She came into the room with her head up, her chil- 
dren silently following. Wrightam was standing in 
the middle of the room. The exaltation of the vision 
he had experienced penaded his whole person; the 
love-light of the crucified Son of God was still in his 

" J. B., what is the matter.? Why have you been 
with Mr. Stanton all this time.? What have you been 
doing? You have neglected me shamefully ! " 

Wrightam put out his hand, and placed it on his 
wife's shoulder. I think the man really loved his 
wife a little. At any rate, he had been proud of her 



11 i 

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good looks, and he adorned her per. i as he might 
have decorated a favorite horse. 

"Amy," he said gently, "I wonder if you can 
understand I am a Christian. I am a new man in 

"A Christian!" The simple, sudden announce- 
ment affected her strangely. Her face flushed 
angrily, and she stepped back. 

"Do you mean that this socialist, anarchist 
preacher has deluded you with his quack religi.:>u.?" 

" It means. Amy, that I am no longer the same. I 
am a different man. The whole world is changed to 
me." He continued looking over her head as she 
confronted him erect, exasperated, astonished, rapidly 
forecasting the effect on her future. Wrightam 
suddenly began to sing : 

"My Jesus, I love thee, 
I know thou art mine. 
For thee all the follies 
Of sin I resign; 
My gracious Redeemer, 
My Saviour art thou. 
If ever I loved thee. 
My Jesus, 'tis now." 

She listened as a tigress might -'sten to a mother 
singing an evening lullaby to her babe. 

" Leave the room Eileen, Alfred!" she stamped her 
foot as she spoke. " I want to talk to your father 
alone ! " The children went out overwhelmed by what 
they had heard. Mrs. Wrightam turned to face her 
husband, and he, as if for the first time fully con- 

.'! a * 


sclous of the family crisis that confronted him, 
returned her look as she stood there alert, profoundly 
angered, the jewels he had given her gleaming at 
her throat and on her fingers, the incarnation of the 
world m its lust for the pleasures that pass away 
before the breath of the eternal God, 




- ■ '' ■ 






. ( 





THE moment the door had shut behind Alfred 
and Eileen, Mrs. Wrightam exclaimed. 

" I suppose one of the ' follies of sin * you are 
going to resign is your wife. She will hardly be 
good enough for you now." 

"Amy," her husband went nearer to her. He 
spoke earnestly, but calmly. His whole attitude was 
that of appeal. "You do not understand. My 
entire purpose in life is changed. But I never had 
a greater longing to be true to those I love. I have 
lived a very sinful life. We have both been d?epl^ 

" Speak for yourself, J. B. ! " She uttered the words 
contemptuously. She was enraged at the unexpected 
event. She saw, in her shrewdness, the crumbling of 
her social fabric so painfully erected. For this divine 
interruption, this astounding transformation of her 
husband, she had nothing but hatred, so far as she 
understood it. Wrightam walked to the end of the 
room, and came back again. 

"Amy, I do not deceive myself, and I cannot 
deceive you in the matter. The change wrought in 
me by the grace of God will compel me to change 
almost every habit of my life." 




"What do you mean?" She turned upon him 
savagely, anticipating to some extent his answer. 

"My business affairs. I have, as an individual 
and as a member of a corporation, repeatedly broken 
the law of the State and of God's higher Kingdom. 
I cannot do this an}' longer." 

" Do you mean that you will retire from the busi- 
ness of the mills?" she asked sharply. During this 
interview her whole physical appearance had seemed 
to age before his eyes. The lines of her face had 
hardened, the beauty of her features had taken on a 
look of repulsion. Or was it because he now saw her 
for the first tin , is she really was? 

" I shall rotirr from it if I find 1 cannot change its 
methods. Plainly, Amy, all these years I have been 
a gambler, a thief and a worshiper of Mammon. The 
fact that I have held place in society, and have been 
allowed to go my ways outside of the penitentiary, 
does not alter the fact that I have been guilty, on a 
stupendous scale, of wickedness which has resulted in 
conviction and imprisonment for scores of men who 
have robbed the people of smaller amounts. In the 
sight of God I am guilty. I cannot continue this 

sort of life. If to change it means " 

" If it means the giving up of all the things worth 
having, do you mean to follow that course?" his 
wife almost shrieked in her anger. Her shrewd 
forecast was not far from the knowledge of the 

" If it means the giving up of anything that h* s 


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broken God's laws and hindered tlic growth of His 
Kingdom, I am ready to give it up." 

" But I am not ! You arc reckoning without me ! 
Do you imagine I intend to let go my social ambitions, 
to adopt a life of sentimental fanaticism, to take up 
with a foolish, dangerous anarchism like Mr. Stanton 
teaches, to lase my hold on the things I ncod for my 
life, all on account of a mistaken religious excite- 
ment.? Do you think I will accept such a dreary 
programme of existence ? I will not, for one moment. 
I will not live such a life, and I will not accept the 
terms of such a union ! " 

"Amy, what do you mean?" 
" I mean, J. B., that I will leave you rather than 
live the life you propose. I will not, and cannot, 
endure such an existence as I foresee. My whole life 
depends on the possession of moi y and social power. 
I will not forego them for any dream of men like Mr. 
Stanton or Bruce Har^-cy, J. B., this is an illusion 
you are under. These meetings are exciting. You 
have in some way come under the spell of them. 
Shake it off. Are you J. B. Wrightam, the great 
captain of industry, the man who holds Lenox finances 
in his hands, the daring leader of great enterprises 
which have astonished the industrial world, or are you 
a poor, fanatical convert to a sentiment which 
never intended for a practical world; a weak, useless 
theoretical vision of a dreamer who lived centuries 
ago " 

"Amy, I cannot listen to that. You must be 



silent." He spoke in strcps of agony for her and 
himself. She had come close to him, and her appeal, 
while pagan in its coarse, brutal confession of her 
paganism, had nevertheless shaken him. She had 
possessed a certain fascination for him. The vision 
he now had of his future was that of a narrow way, 
at the ending of which stood n large black cross. The 
few significant words his wife had uttered about 
leaving him threw up at once the veil before a future, 
disgraced by social scandal which now, under the 
finer impulses that moved him, was simply torture. 
The social and business revolution he was contemplat- 
ing was nothing short of stupendous in its effects on 
all the surroundings of his existence, as it involved 
with him his family, his business associates and his 
acquaintances. The woman who now faced him, his 
children who were wondering at this experience of 
their father, were the products of such a false and 
selfish social environment as he had helped to create. 
What else could come out of it except what did come ? 
There was no anger in his heart towards this woman. 
A deep-growing pity was moving him. Nevertheless, 
he saw everything now in its true light. And at the 
heart of it all was his Divine Lord, who beckoned him 
calmly to follow Him. " If any man will not deny 
himself and take up his cross and follow me, he cannot 
be my disciple." The words kept repeating them- 
selves in a rhythmic refrain while his wife was talking. 
" Amy, you know not what you say. This dreamer 
of twenty centuries ago is the one great Person in my 




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n » 

[L ' - 

. ..- ' - 







life at tills moment. I believe in Him as I believe in 
no other being on earth. I would die for Him with 
joy. I will do what He tells me to. His commands 
are first. My duty to you is plain. You are my 
wife, and by the sacred law of our union now, even 
though we committed sin to be husband and wife, I 
am bound to provide, to protect, to care for you. 
All that a man can do towards that I am ready to do 
in every honest way. But I will not, and cannot, 
deceive you. Amy. I cannot, as a disciple of Christ, 
continue to make money or maintain a social position 
at the expense of my conscience. I will no longer 
be a party, silent or otherwise, to the unchristian 
practices of which I have been guilty in the commer- 
cial world. Rather than do that, I will go to work 
myself in the mills, as Harwood did, as an honest 
laborer at a dollar and a half a day. How else shall I 
become a witness for my Saviour.? In what other way 
can I prove to the world the truth of my new life.?" 
She listened with eyes that contracted with impotent 
anger. She drew herself up, and the jewels flashed 
on her arms and about her throat. There was a beau- 
tiful wristlet of opals that Wrightam had given her 
when they were married. She raised her arm and 
deliberately unclasped this circle of gems, and in her 
madness threw it with all her might on the floor. 
The opals broke from their delicate gold settings, 
and rolled over the polished surface. One of them 
fell near her foot. She set her heel upon it. The 
soul of the woman was towering up with satanic fury. 



"I will po my own way! I give you warning, 
J. B. Wrightani! Vou cannot impose such a life 
on me ! You are not my lord and master ! I renounce 
any such union with any such fanaticism. I refuse 
to ruin my hajjpiness by any such madness!" 

For a moment Wrightani faced her, white-lipped 
but calm; sorrow, pity, anguish, suffering, tugging 
at his heart. She then turned away and walked out 
of the room. When she was gone, he stood still for 
a minute. Then he walked over to the window-seat. 
He sat down and buried his head in his hands. Tears 
rolled over his face, but from his lips softly there 
came the words of the old Gospel hymn : " If ever I 
loved Thee, my Jesus, 'tis now." 

The night passed on, and he remained in the room 
until daybreak. It seemed to him that, in a very 
peculiar sense, the room had been consecrated by the 
wonderful experience he had known there. In that 
room, with his business friends, many times during 
the past years he had worked out those bold, shrewd 
schemes which had given him the name of a great 
captain of industry. The very walls had been wit- 
nesses to commercial fraud on such a stupendous scale 
that the general public could not dream of their extent 
and character. But henceforth this "den" would 
always remind him of his first meeting with his real 
Lord, Jesus Christ, the Master of earth and the hope 
of the world. Do you not think that when Paul 
returned to Jerusalem from Damascus, he jemem- 
bered that spot in the highway where Jesus spoke to 



him, "Saul, Saul, why persccutest thou mc?" We 
can imagine the new-born apostle falling on his knees 
in the dust of the road, and with streaming eyes, 
returning thanks that the vision of eternal life was 
granted to his soul at that spot. 

Even so, Wrightani, as he kept his vigil there, 
watching with his Lord, bearing the cross of his new 
relationship to his wife and family, was upborne by 
his vision of the Divine which the room had witnessed. 
It was holy ground and would be historic to him 

Neither his wife, Alfred nor Eileen appeared at 
the breakfast-table. He ate his meal in silence, alone, 
and then went back into the " den." 

He tore the slip off his desk calendar, as he had 
been in the habit of doing, but instead of throwing it 
into the basket, he folded it carefully, and put it in a 
small card-case. As he did so he noted that he had 
marked ahead on the calendar an important directors' 
meeting for that very date. It was the election of offi- 
cers, and a very important meeting in many other ways. 
It meant the organization of a new combination of 
Capital against Labor. As the largest shareholder 
in the mills and in the First Bank of Lenox, Wrightam 
was secure in his position as the head of the combine. 
The election of directors was a form, and had been 
for years past, with no other result anticipated except 
that of the giving to Wrightam supreme control over 
the business. Harwood's death had removed the only 
man who had at any time rivaled Wrightam as a 

i ' ■! 



trust leader. If a singU- iiulividuul over could be 
said to own a town, that could be said of J. B. 
Wrightam, in regard to Lenox. He had been, up 
to this morning, its financial autocrat, dictating its 
largest industr, , shaping its financial policy, and 
reaping the overwhelming financial gain for himself. 

As he prepared to go down to this meeting, his 
mind, clear, and to his own great satisfaction, calm 
and even joyful, called into view the different mem- 
bers of the Board of Directors of the mills and the 

There was Cummings, the Vice-President, shrewd, 
cold, a polished man of the world, a member of Saint 
Cecilia, and one of the bitter opponents of Stanton 
and his ideas. 

There was Rollins, a local merchant, proprietor of 
a great depaitment store, long-headed, with energy 
and push, always adding some new feature to his 

There was Judge Rodney, able and convincing, a 
lawyer of great repute and the best-read man in 

There was Fleming, a capitalist, who had made his 
money in selling South African war supplies, who 
owned the most expensive house in Lenox, and whose 
wife was a personal friend of Mrs. Wrightam. 

There was Collins, another capitalist, who had been 
Wrightam's lieutenant or go-between in the various 
deah which the magnate had brought to a successful 
finish for himself. 




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There wns Dtinind, n silent, uncomiimnicativo man, 
who, it wns said, had made a fortuiK- by manipulating 
copper stocks and ruilrund shares. 

As he thought over the personality of these nioney- 
niakors, Wrightani could not think of one of them, 
with the exception of Judge Ilochiiy, who would prob- 
ably understand his chang,- of attitude in regard to 
financial matters. To most of these men it was the 
meat and drink of their existence to make money, i's 
the first business of their lives. To make it in any 
w-iv that would not land them in jail was considend 
by them to be legitimate. Even if in the doing oi 
tliis, other men were ruined, even if no actual service 
was rendered society, even if the profits that came to 
them were possible on account of watering the stock 
and deceiving the public by representations of fic- 
titious values that never had any existence except on 
paper, even thus these men, almost to an individual, 
were absorbed in the mad chase for wealth. 

Was not J. B. Wrightam their great example.'' 
Was it not the ambition of every young man in Lenox 
to reach J. B. Wrightam's pedestal as a captain of 
industry? Had not one of the leading magazines 
printed a spirited biography of J. B. Wrightam only 
a few weeks ago, and pointed him out to the youth of 
the land as an example of what could be done by 
shrewdness, attention to details, and a rare combina- 
tion of coolness, mental alertness and dogged per- 
sistence.? Wrightam had at the time, with almost 
childish egotism, boiiol.t u large number of these 

■< >-■' a 





magftzinps, nmrkod the article niul stiit it to his !)usi- 
ness ucMjimintunc'fs. He hud cut out the magazine's 
picture of himself and hung it up at his dvtk at 
tlie bank. 

When VVrightnm entered the directors' room nt the 
bank it was eight niinntts to ten. 'J'hc board was n 
punctual body* and almough none of the members had 
yet come in, Wrightam knew that before the hour 
struck they would nearly all be seated about the long, 
polislicd table. He passed through into his own 
private office and slui*^ he door, sat down at his 
desk and put his head down on it, praying for 
strength and peace. The wonder of his new life had 
not diminished. If anything, the exaltation of his 
vivid sense of relation to Christ was deeper than 
it had been the evening before; and, in addition to 
that, he felt an increase of joy, a vivid, but calm, 
ass/Kince of divine companionslr < and support. 

Ho opened his door and went out into tlie directors' 
room, taking his place at the head of the table, as 
usual. It was one minute of the hour and all the 
directors were present but Durand. As the clock 
struck he entered quietly, and with a slight smile, as 
if complimenting himself on the fact that he had not 
lost any valuable time, and had saved the five-dollar 
fine for being late, he took his seat. 

Wrightam got up as soon as the hour had struck. 
His look around the table was significant. Not a man 
there failed to notice something unusual. 



(HI' ■ 



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'E are met, gentlemen, for the annual elec- 
tion of officers, and the transaction of 
other important business. Before any- 
thing else is done, however, I ask you to listen to a 
personal statement I must make." 

Every face around that long, polished table stared 
at the President of the First Bank of Lenox with a 
deepening interest that grew in intensity with every 
second. Wrightam leaned over a little and placed 
one large, heavy hand on the table. His face was the 
calmest in the room as he went on. 

" This is the first occasion I have had to make a 
pubhc confession of an experience I have no right to 
keep to myself. Yesterday, to be exact, last night, 
I had a religious experience which has changed the 
course of my entire life. I have become a Christian 
disciple, and I want you all to know the fact, as it 
will have the most important and practical bearing 
on my action here to-day." 

He paused, and the men around that table con- 
tmued to stare at him in speechless amazement. The 
announcement made by Wrightam was so simple, yet 
so astounding, that there was no effort made by any 
one to speak. Again he looked into the faces of his 

" Of course, you aU know I have been a member of 



a church all these years and have passed for a Chris- 
tian man. In reahty I was never a Christ'>h. -,. ■ly 
in name. It meant nothing to me as a fc ce or a 
UfeS To-day I see all this as a new man. '. hris- 
tianity has come to mean to me the greatest anti musl 
beautiful thing in the world. I have been a money 
worshiper. I have never given the K-ngdom of God 
a worthy thought. All that is completely changed. 
I say this to you, because I believe it is the first neces- 
sary act of my Christian life, confession after belief " 
The silence around the tabic had deepened. It \s as 
absolute. If the great magnate had opened the meet- 
ing by saying that the First Bank of Lenox had sus- 
pended payment and closed its doors, there could not 
have been greater bewilderment. 

"Gentlemen, you are all well enough informed to 
know, that I cannot, under these conditions that now 
confront me, continue to do business on the basis we 
have been accustomed to. The representations by 
which we obtained control of the plant at Oreville, 
for example, are, from a Christian point of view, 
absolutely dishonest. You will allow me to say that it 
is only a matter of a few months, at the longest, before 
the public will be in possession of these facts, and 
there nay be a popular uprising against us. But that 
is not dll. It is only one item out of all the rest. The 
business of the mills, as it has been carried on, has 
involved so much that it is unjust and non-christian, 
that it will be a moral impossibility for me to have a 
personal share in it unless the methods are radically 

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changed, I am not so blind to the facts as to suppose 
the public can be kept in the dark concerning these 
matters much longer. But, even if I knew that our 
methods could be continued unrobukcd indefinitely, 
under the present rule of conduct which governs me, 
I could not endorse such methods nor continue to prac- 
tice them. It has come to the parting of the ways 
with me, brothers." It was the first time in his life 
that Wrightam had ever called these money-makers 
by that term. Now, as he looked into their astonished 
faces, there surged into his hear' a wave of feeling 
for them such as Paul had when i. . said, " Woe is me 
if I preach not the Gospel!" The amazing depth, 
reality and joy of his conversion could not have been 
proved more clearly than by what new happened. 
" Brothers," he repeated the word, " I stand here be- 
fore you to-day a saved man. I gladly acknowledge 
Jesus Christ as my Saviour. I am ready to follow 
Him. Would to God all of you might know with me 
the divine joy of this new life. Oh, my brothers, what 
wonderful things we might do for the Kingdom of 
God on earth, if once we were inspired with the love 
of God and our brother men ! What miracles of re- 
demption of the business of the world we might behold, 
if once we were eager to do the Christlike thing in 
the money-making energy of our lives. God be merci- 
ful to me ! I count myself the chief of sinners. But 
God has snatched my soul out of the pit, and redeemed 
me with a wonderful redemption, and I am not able 
to hold my lestimony from you. I say here calmly, 





but without any resenation, that from this time forth 
I shall, by the help of God, obey his commandments as 
I believe they ought to be obeyed in the money-making 
world, I .. 1 that means farewell to the methods I have 
all my hfe practiced. I would count it, next to the 
unparalleled joy of my own experience, the greatest 
happiness of my life if you would all walk with me 
along this highway of service," 

In the history of revival movements, it has been true 
that very many souls of the redeemed have stood up 
and witnessed before the Church in public to the grace 
of a savmg power. But it is doubtful if any man ever 
chose a better place to witness for his Lord than 
Wrightam chose when he stood at the end of that 
table in the directors' room of the First Bank of 
Lenox, and told those six men the facts about his 

Durand was the first one to break the 1. ence 

that followed. Wrightam had taken his seai, and in 
the emotion following his confession, he had bowed 
his head upon his hands. 

"Gentlemen, Brother Wrightam has mistaken the 
place. This is not the Rink, and one of Stanton's 
Gospel services, but, as I understand it, a called meet- 
ing of the directors of the First Bank of Lenox. I 
should like to be corrected if I am misinformed." 

There was another painful pause. Cummings, the 
Vice-President, was tracing meaningless figures on the 
letter-head bank paper in front of him. He rose in 
his place nervously. 




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" I — we — perhaps we had better adjourn this morn- 
ing to some other date — until — until —we — until Mr. 

Wrightam " 

" I move we adjourn to meet at the call of the Vice 
President," said Cumming-s hurriedly. " All in favor 
of adjournment say aye, all opposed no, it is a vote." 
Everybody rose except Wrightam, who remained 
seated. The most awkward pause of all followed, and 
then without a word every one went out except Cum- 
mings and Judge Rodney. 

As the door shut, Cummings savagely struck the 
table with his open hand. 

" Mr. Wrightam, this is a most astonishing thing 
you have done. Do you begin to realize what a crisis 
you have precipitated into our plans? Do you, for 
one moment, understand what all this wj\ mean to us, 
to me, to the bank, to the mills, to our schemes in 
general ? " 

Wrightam raised his head. 

"I understand, Cummings, something of what it 
means. I don't deny it is a serious matter for all of 
us. So far as I can receive the brunt of the trouble 
that will flow out of my action I am eager to take it. 
If my withdrawal from the company under its pres- 
ent management is likely to cause you or other mem- 
bers loss, I stand ready to give up all I possess to save 

you. I do not " 

" Do you mean," Cummings spoke with a great ef- 
fort to control his excitement, " Do you mean " 

"1 mean, Cummings, that if my action hereafter 

,";» .'TTT. 





should involve jou, for example, In such a way as to 
cause you financial loss, I will gladly turn over to you 
and the rest every cent I have in the world, rather 
than have you suspect me of any other motive than the 
one I have here to-day acknowledged as the one great- 
est motive of my life." 

" But your withdrawal from the bank and the mills 
mil create a panic." Judge Rodney spoke. His face 
was very grave. He had listened to Wrightam's 
word, with eyes fixed on him, the only man at the 
table who really understood, in some degree, what it 
all meant. 

" It may be," Wrightam said slowly. "Still, what 
can I do.? I have wronged the public by my wicked 
acts. To set those acts right, to restore justice to its 
place may, for a brief space, cause trouble to others. 
To help lessen such trouble I am ready, as I have said, 
to sacrifice my entire fortune. Monev ! What is that 
to me now by the side of right ! I am not, of course, 
Ignorant of the fact that in all probabilitv, what I do 
now will precipitate some kind of a crisis' in the busi- 
ness. It will involve the men who, with me, have all 
their years been precipitating crises of another kind 
among other men. The only difference is that hereto- 
fore iLs other men have lost and we have won. If we 
lose now, it will be no more than we have inflicted on 
the public. I do not see any other course open to me." 
" It will mean much, I tell you, Wrightam ! " Cum- 
mings seemed beside himself. He spoke with great 
agitation. " The minute this news is out on the street, 









no man can tell what the result will be. The Oreville 
matter was a secret. What right had you to disclose 

that? What rignt, I say " 

The Vice-President was so near forgetting his usual 
polished, dignified demeanor that Judge Rodney inter- 

fered. . 

«This talk can do no good, :Mr. Cummmgs. 
Plainly. I want to say, Mr. Wrightam's statement 
about the Oreville purchase is news to me. I certainly 
do not approve of it if I understand him. As to other 
transactions of the Board of Directors m ma ters 
concerning the bank and the mill, I call you both to 
witness, gentlemen, I have more than once re^stered 
mv protest against certain measures passed by the 
Board and, you will pardon me, Wrightam, I have 
always been overruled and voted down by your own 
approval of doubtful financial actions." _ 

«I acknowledge it. Brother Rodney," Wrightam 
said sorrowfully. " It's a part of my past that I am 
now eager to atone for. If you will show me how I can 
do it any other way, I wish you would tell me. 

«Anv other way!" Cummings struck his hand 
again on the table. " Any other way ! What more 
could a man do to deliberately ruin his associates than 
you have done here to-day? The mere rumor that 
YOU are to withdraw from the company will precipi- 
tate a slump in the price of Oreville and Lenox mill 
stock. Right on the event of Harvey's move to with- 
draw the Unions and organize a co-opera ive stock 
company with mills of their own, the result of this 




morning's unexampled fanaticism will simply mean 
the biggest panic Lenox has ever known. It will mean 
ruin, ruin, I tell you. And I, for one, am not prepared 
to stand it. Do you hear me ? " 

"I hear you," Wrightam announced calmly. 
" What would you have r e do.? " 

" Do? Call the directors back, before the news gets 
out. Tell them you have been laboring under relig- 
ious excitement, and have been indiscreet in your lan- 
guage. Have the business we were planning go on as 
usual. Save ourselves from the inevitable ruin that 
faces us." 

"Do you mean, Mr. Cummings, that you counsel 
me to retract all I have said about my conversion, and 
assent, as heretofore, to all methods I now regard as 

wrong? " 

" You do not need to retract all you said. Assure 
the Board of your assistance in the plans we must 
make. At least keep silent or remain with the com- 
pany until we have dealt with the Unions." 

" And sanction the Godless measures we have estab- 
lished.? Do you advise me to do that?" 

" Godless ! It is simply business, as business is con- 
ducted. You cannot inject the Golden Rule into busi- 
ness. It is a conflict. It has been established by com- 
mon consent. You have been its best exponent. I say 
your withdrawal now and condemnation of our plans 
means ruin to us. It means ruin." 

" It has meant ruin to us all our lives, Cummings. 
Ruin of all the sacred, loving feelings of man for man. 



la* , 


Ruin of all the religious aspirations, ruin of the holiest 
ambitions, and nun of the dearest things of the soul. 
The loss of money is the smallest thing that threatens 
us. It is no longer my God. I cannot, and wdl not, 
support by silence nor consent the miquity of the 
Jthods I have in the past endorsed and worked out. 
If my act means your financial loss, I beheve, on the 
other hand, it will mean by the grace of God unspeak- 
able gain to the commercial world at large. 

Cummings was about to reply to Wr.ghtam when 
Judge Rodney gravely interrupted. All three men 
were under great and unusual excitement, but 
Wrightam was by far the calmest of the three. 

"Do you consider your mind clear on this religious 
question, Mr. Wrightam? Do you consider the ex- 
perience as in every way worthy of intellectua mental 
assent? Is it safe to follow the excitement, the emo- 
tional stress under which you are laboring." " 

Wrightam cleached his hands. His face grew red, 
then white. In the old days (how far away tney 
seemed now!) any hint fr m his business associates 
that he might be mistaken in his mental conception 
.as enough to enrage him to the point of passion 
Under the cold, critical questioning of the eminent 
jurist, he felt for a moment the stirring of the old mam 
Only for a moment. That new life instantly asserted 
its lordship, and when he answered Judge Rodney it 
was with a quiet, sane, weU-balanced repb^ that stag- 
gered the lawyer and effectually silenced him. 

« Judge Rodney, my religious experience is the san- 

/.'I-.^( mis 


est, truest thing in n^y whole life. I don't deny the 
emotion. I have felt iiore within the last twenty-four 
hours than during all the years since I was born. But 
is emotion not to be trusted? May it not be as trust- 
worthy a witness as the will or the intellect .=* 1 am 
not mad any more than Paul was, though I n xy scim 
so to you and all the rest who have never seen my soul 
in any manifestation of itself. I claim here and now, 
that I am acting in a saner, more sensible manner than 
any member of the Board of Directors of this bank. 
They think, as I did once, that the first business of a 
man's life is to make money. All the teachins- of Jesus 
Christ the Son of God is contrary to that idea. The 
Kingdom of God ought to be the first of all objects 
in a sane man's life. I believe that now. And 1 
claim that in believing with the greatest and best 
Being that ever lived, I am living in a truer, calmer, 
more rightly-balanced intellectual and mental condi- 
tion than the man who denies that Jesus Christ taught 
the only way to live." 

Cummings broke in again. "It is all sheer non- 
sense! The commercial world cannot be run on any 
such principle. Business is business, and must be run 
as such. It cannot be run like a Sunday school." 
He picked up his hat. "If the bank goes to the 
wall it will be your doing. If ruin faces us all you 
can take the blame. Fine thing! Your precious 
Christianity ! " 

He went out and left Judge Rodney and Wrightam 

> 'r 'Ha 


* ^ 

: ■ 1 



^ ; 


11 h • 


"It is what I expected," Wrightam murmured. The 
Judge eyed liim with conflicting feelings. 

« Your course is not .altogether clear in its details. 
The whole affair is complicated. Your action will in- 
volve grave changes in all Lenox industries. Have 

you rcali/id that? " 

« 1 have, in part. I have prayed for wisdom to meet 
all these changing conditions. I desire to save as 
many as possible from disaster. I will do my utmost, 
Judge Rodney, to shieU' 'he innocent. But what 
other course is open to me, as a Christian, txcept to 
withdraw myself from schemes which are positively 
wrong and unchristian? Do you see anything else for 

me to do?" 

The Judge answered slowly, a strange lool. >.. his 

eyes as he did so. 

" I see no other course, logically, if you are really 
going to try to be a Christian. Of course, if your 
Christianity is nominal, that is one thing; but if it is 

real " , . v j 

The Judge rose to go. He held out his hand. 
"Whatever happens, Mr. Wrightam, I wish to assure 
you of my respect. I cannot doubt your sincerity. As 

to where that will lead you " 

"God knows. I will trust Him," Wrightam 
answered, tears in his eyes as he clasped Rodney's 
hand firmly. The Judge went out and left him 


He had been gone only a few moments when the 
cashier of the bank opened the door, and said a re- 


porttr for the Times wanted to see the President of 
the bunk. 

Wriglitani let him come in nnd told him the simple 
truth. The reporter could hardly trust his senses, but 
he rapidly took donn the sbitemcnt Wrightam fur- 
nished, and hurried out after the interview to write up 
for the first edition of the afternoon the most remark- 
able occurrence ever chronicled by the Lenox papers. 

Tliat was a strange day in the experience of J. B. 
Wrightam. He stayed down at his ofHce, telephoning 
out to his house that he would not be up to lunch as 
usual. All the afternoon visitors, business acquaint- 
ances, crowded the office, angry, incredulous, aston- 
ished, overwhelmed at the occurrence. Out on the 
main street wl ^n the first edition of the Times ap- 
peared, men in excited groups stood about holding the 
paper, reading the astonishing news of the " Conver- 
sion of J. B. Wrightam, the mill magnate!" "Will 
withdraw from the Trust." " '^'^'ect of Dr. Stanton's 
preaching last Sunday." " Uun on the bank is ex- 
pected to-morrow." " Shares in Orcvillc have a tum- 
ble ! " " Other members of the company enraged and 
aghast." "Probable effect on the actions of the 
Unions." " Harvey's views on the situation." " Un- 
paralleled excitement in Lenox over the event." 

It was after dark before Wrightam could get away. 
He started for home at last, and as he came out on the 
street tlie newsboys were even that late crying out his 
name and selling papers. He walked along, going 
over the day's experience. It had been full of crosses, 











,f ,Ji 



1 ? 



¥. I 

1 ■Jill 


bitter reproaches, threats, estrangements, revilings, 
curses from the men who, with him, had made Mam- 
mon their God. Still, at his heart was the peace of 
God and the love of his Redeemer. He was full of a 
strange joy, and had nothing to retract or change. 

As he drew near home he began to think of his wife. 
All his other crosses were light by the side of this. 

" God help nie," he prayed, as ho entered the house. 
" God help me and her ! " 

He went into the " den " after hanging up his coat 
and hat. It was dark, and he went through into the 
library. That was empty, and he went on to the din- 
ing-room. The table was set for dinner, and one of 
the servants was standing near the dumb-waiter. 
"Where is Mrs. Wrightam?" 

"I don't know, sir. I " The girl seemed 

frightened and looked stran;'?ely at him. He went out 
and up the stairs, and called his wife's name. Getting 
no answer he suddenly turned, and, a^. if obeying some 
direction, went down into the "don" and turned on 
the light there. 

As he did so he saw on his desk a piece of paper, 
placed on the middle of the blotter, addressed to him. 
He picked it up, anticipating its contents, and read: 
" I am no longer your wife. I have read the accounts 
in the paper. The whole affair is disgraceful. I will 
not endure such a life. I am leaving you, and you 
need not expect me to return. Alfred is with me." 

That wa? all, and he was dazed by the brief brutal- 
ity of it. it mattered little to him afterwards that she 

I 1 


had taken with her the family jewels and nil tf.e moiiev 
nhe could secure from Imlh ,^'fred and KiUeri. For 
the moment tlie fact of the woman's departure out of 
his house and his life smote him deeply, and that was 
all he realized until, after a ftiw moments, the last line 
began ♦o detach itself from the rest. " Alfred is with 
me." His daujrhfn-, then, Eileen— had she- 

There was n nistiing souml in the hallway, and he 
turned, his heart in a tumult. 

Eileen came in, timidly at first, then as she saw him 
standin<r there holding the note in his hand, siie ran up 
to him, and with a sob threw her arms about his neck. 

*' Oh, father. I could not leave you ! Father ! Father ! 
Do you neef 1 me now ? " 

"Thank God! Thank God! Dear child!" was all 
he could say as he clasped her to him, and she passed 
her hand over his face, wet with tears, as she cried 
again, "Father!" and that day of cross-bearing for 
the once selfish-hearted magnate came to a close with 
a radiance not of earth, that filled the souls of father 
and daughter, as they mingled their tears of grief 
and affection in one never-to-be-forgotten lo^ .• of each 



f!= k 

.;■ ! 



AFTER the first joyful exclamation of Wrightam 
over the fact that his daughter's love for him 
had become more real, question and answer 
revealed the facts of his wife's departure. 

She had first commanded Eileen to go with her; 
then, when the girl steadfastly refused, she pleaded 
and threatened alternately. This did not move Eileen, 
and ]\Irs. Wrightam had finally written the note, and 
packing up all a ^liable valuables that she could carry, 
had gone away. Where, Eileen did not know. 

In answer to her fatlicr's inquiry, she had heard her 
mother declare her intention of going back to the 
stage. As the handsome Mrs. Lynde, she had acted 
with remarkable success for a year after her divorce, 
and before her marriage to Wrightam. The old life 
always had peculiar attractions for her. Wrightam 
was certain she would return to it. 

But his daughter filled his thought, evon more than 
this event which had divided and broken his home. 
Eileen was really unknown to her father, A girl with 
extravagant tastes and a superficial education, she yet 
had a strain of the old Pilgrim blood of New Eng- 
land in her character. When the crisis had flashed 
up sharply and without warning, she had quietly, but 



with invincible firmness, made licr decision to stay with 
her father. At the moment she flung her arms about 
his neck as he stood there in the " den," her nature 
grew at a bound in afFcctionate feehng for him. His 
religious experience was an unknown page to her, but 
her heart spelled without mistake his yearning and 
need as he faced her, and the revelation of that feeling 
afFtcted him as a new experience, to add to his Chris- 
tion faith a factor hitherto unknown. 

" Eileen, girl, your father has had a strange day. 
In some ways the strangest of his life." 

" Father, I have not been a good daughter to you, 
and I don't understand now. But," she said it tim- 
idly, but tearfully, "you need some one; it did not 
seem to me I could leave you. Do you need me? " 

The tears streamed over Wrightam's large, coarse 
face. Yet its coarseness was in reality washed away 
by those drops, every one of which was pure affection 
out of the spring of his new-bom nature. 

" Need you, girl.? Your father is heart-hungry for 
you. Oh, I will be such a father to you, Eileen ! If 
God will permit me to make good a part of my neg- 
lected past." 

So they sat there and talked on the past and present 
and future ; and over the disgrace of the faithless wife 
was gently spread the all-enveloping mantle of a 
heaven-born relationship between these two whicii was 
destined, by the will of the Divine, to grow tenderer 
and deeper through the amazing experiences of 
Wrightam's career in the weeks that followed. 


,'! } 

" ML 



''i I 
-.1 ? 

, r 


Through all that period that now meant testing to 
the converted financier, he walked calmly and even joy- 
fully. The storm of public criticism, misunderstanding 
and abuse burst full upon him. The papers published 
full and detailed accounts of his wife's action, and 
with journalistic " enterprise " added columns of scan- 
dal that had no foundation in truth except that of 
surmise and rumor. Even Eileen was subjected to the 
torture of a brow-beating process to extort the minut- 
est items relative to her mother's flight and her own 
stay with her father. The most sacred and private 
feelings were deliberately exhibited as part of the 
" story " of the Wrightam family sensation. 

All this fell brutally and unfeelingly on Wrightam 
and his daughter. Through it all he offered no re- 
joinder, asked for no redress and expected no quarter. 
Old friends fell away from him as from a plague. 
Members of Saint Cecilia regarded him with cold dis- 

When the storm burst on the bank, Cummings, 
Durand, Fleming and others saved themselves by every 
artifice known to their commercial diplomacy. 
Through all those days of stress, Wrightam lived 
straight on, putting his own fortune into tne bank and 
stopping the run on it, and, true to his promise, pay- 
ing out, dollar for dollar, to Cummings and the other 
directors, every cent they had lost by the panic. Im- 
mense as his resources had been, the drain on them 
through this unexampled use, as the mill stock fell, 
was enormous. In his conscientious desire to redeem 


the promise to Cummings, he began to realize, as the 
days grew into weeks, that his millions had shrunk to 
thousands, and his once h'mitless wealth was fast tak- 
ing w.ngs to % away. The inevitable result he began 
to foresee, did not, however, disturb him. The money 
he once had worshiped he no longer deified. He even 
began to feel a sense of relief at the thought of be- 
ginning hfe new on an absolutely clean, honest basis, 
with no unclean dollars to haunt his memory and tor- 
ture him with the silent, persistent accusation of a 
selfish past which God had forgiven. 

Sitting in his « den " one evening at this time, when 
he first began to understand that he was no longer a 
nulhonaire or even a rich man, he was surprised to 
have Bruce Harvey call. 

Harvey had been in Oreville after Wrightam's con- 
version When he read the accounts in the paper., his 
hps had curled contemptuously He had not believed 
\ u .V°" returning to Lenox he had seen Stanton, 
rnd had been staggered at the minister's positive faith 
in Wnghtam's sincerity. The events that followed the 
run on the bank, the surrender on Wrightam's part, 
to the other directors of all the Oreville stock to save 
them, the evident change of purpose in the life of the 
magnate, had seemed to Harvey incredible. His old 
distrust and hatred of Wrightam was too recent and 
too deeply intrenched, however, to be dislodged, and 
he still entertained a belief that the shrewd captain of 
industry had a game to play, and was using the relig- 
ious dodge to make a grand coup that would place him 



II ' 

at the head of the industrial column and rout his com- 
mercial rivals once for all, beyond hope of recovery 
for them. 

" Why," said Harvey to Stanton, " I would as soon 
expect the devil himself to join the Church and be con- 
verted at heart as to expect J. B. Wrightam to stop 
loving money or power. He is an old bird. He has a 
card up his sleeve that he isn't showing you or the 

Stanton felt hurt at Harvey's cold-blooded disbe- 

"If you don't believf the facts, go and see 
Wrightam for yourself, lost him in any way you 
can. But in the name of thil judgment by which you 
will be judged yourself, Harvey, don't discredit as 
plain a case of God's dealing with a man as the world 
ever saw." 

"Well, I don't mean to be unfair, Mr. Stanton," 
Harvey had replied, somewhat abashed; "but 3'ou 
must remember how many years I have been thinking 
of Wrightam as having horns and hoofs. I can't 
wipe out that picture in a minute." 

But he took Stanton's suggestion, and called at 
Wrightam's that evening. When he walked into the 
" den " he was in a condition of mental curiosity, and 
a large reservation of distrust. 

"Glad to see you, Brother Harvey," said 
Wrightam heartily. "Take off your overcoat and 
draw up to the fire. It's cold out." 

"Thank you," replied Harvey slowly. "But I 

iiii 4 



guess I won't trouble to take ofF my coat. I can't 
stay long." 

Wrightam looked at him earnestly, but did not re- 
peat his invitation. Harvey coughed and seemed a 
little embarrassed. 

" What can I do for you." " asked Wrightam. 

"Nothing! Did you think I called to get any- 
thing? " Harvey said roughly. 

Wrightara's face expressed surprise. Then he re- 
plied gently : 

" I did not know. If I could be of any service '» 

" See here J. B., I am not fooled by this part you 
are acting. You've got a scheme. Well, I want to 
say, so have I. You want to crush the Union. That 
is the great desire of your life. Let me tell you, it 
can't be done." Harvey put his hand in his pocket 
and drew out a paper. " Read that ! " he said, with a 
tone of coarse exultation that measured the limit of 
his reckoning with the man who had for years stood in 
his path as the enemy of every ambition he had ever 

Wrightam took the paper and read it with every 
expression of surprise. 

It was a contract signed by over five thousand men 
in Lenox and Oreville mills to withdraw from the mills 
and organize a joint-stock company to run on a co- 
operative basis, entirely independent of all aid or as- 
sistance from outside capital. It was the culmination 
of years of planning on Harvey's part, the result of 
painful wrestling with duU and slow minds, and an 


". : ! 




f ■ ■ 

: I' ' 




almost superhuman overcoming of prejudice, fear and 
conflicting forces at war in Labor's own camp. 

It was, Harvey believed, the first really successful 
attempt ever made by organized Labor to free itself 
from the unequal union with Capital, where Capital 
claimed the lion's share of the benefits. 

Under the contract, most of the skilled labor in both 
the Lenox and Orevillt mills agreed to withdraw and 
hAp form the new combination. 

" This will be made public to-morrow. Perhaps you 
would like to take stock in the new company, Mr. 
Wrightam. I understand you have lost a little in the 
recent flurry," said Harvey with a sneer. 

Wrightam made no answer. His eyes looked into 
the fire thoughtfully. Not even a flush of color had 
touched his face at anything Harvey had said. The 
man who sat clothed and in his right mind had been 
too close to the source of divine happiness and peace to 
feel disturbed over these common taunts. Harvey 
looked at him uneasily. He did not comprehend this 
new man. 

Wrightam handed back the contract quietly. 

" I hope you will succeed, Mr. Harvey. But I know 
you will not, unless you put into the scheme one thing 
which - '^ar is altogether lacking." 

"What's that.?" 

" Let me ask a question. In this list of names how 
many men have you who have become Christians dur- 
ing the Rink meetings.? " 

Harvey's face grew dark with passion. Then he 


experienced an unusual emotion of shame as the inci- 
dent with Stanton over that event recurred to him. 

Very few, if any, I guess. We don't need them. 
We can get along better without the snivellers." 

"Mr. Stanton tolls me there were about four hun- 
dred men soundly converted during the meetings, 
^ou say almost none of these men are going out into 
your new company } " 

" PracticaUy none of them. But it makes little dif- 
ference. The Lenox mills will have to close down 
when we pull out." 

" ^° y°" /e«"y believe that ? » Wrightam asked 
the question keenly. Back of it lay all his past shrewd 
knowledge of facts in the commercial world 

"I know it," Harvey said; but in spite of himself 
there was a note of uneasiness in his tone. 

" I do not, Harvey. If you imagine Cummings and 
men like him are going to let the Lenox and Oreville 
plants he idle and permit you to open up without 
rivalry, you are very much mistaken. There are two 
thousand men idle now in Raymond, who, with a 
month s experience, could operate the Lenox mills 
fairly well You have chosen a poor time to pull out. 
There are hundreds of good furnacemen who will rush 
into Lenox and Oreville to take your place." 

« We expect to get our share of the Raymond men," 
Harvey replied doggedly. 

Wrightam shook his head. « After all, these things 
are not the important ones. Even granting that you 
have a clear field to organize and operate under the 




most favorable circumstances, Brother Harvey, I be- 
lieve you are destined to fail in the end, because you 
are leaving out o/ the enterprise the great essential 
to any solution of the whole terrible Labor ques- 

*• What's that? " Harvey asked incredulously. Not 
even his close acquaintance with Stanton an ' knowl- 
edge of his convictions prepared him for Wrightam*s 
obvious answer. He had been too long accustomed to 
thinking of Wrightam as an enemy, as a money-lover. 
He could not readjust his thought of the man. 

" You leave out the religious love of man for man, 
Harvey. You are going to do with your new indus- 
trial combination just what men like me (as I used to 
be) have been doing in the past. The entire Labor 
question could be solved in ten years, or less, if men 
loved one another. It can never be solved around the 
sign of the dollar, as fought for by either party. Men 
have need to be bom again. The first object in life is 
the Kingdom of Grod. And even if you seem to suc- 
ceed in your enterprise and do not have love, it will 
profit you nothing." 

Harvey listened, angered. Was this J. B. 
Wrightam, the captain of industry, the financier who 
for years had dictated terms to Lenox, and held the 
fortunes of thousands in his pocket .!" 

He looked at Wrightam more carefully. The one 
thing that struck him most of all as he looked was the 
peace on Wrightam's face. It was unmistakable. 
The next thing was the happiness. There was an 


actual glow on tliose large, heavy features that even 
Harvey could not explain. 

"Fanatic!" he said to himself. Still he did not 
believe in the man's transformation. The whole thing 
was absurd. It was also irritating, and he got up sud- 
denly, s if the atmosphere of the " den " had become 
choking to him. 

"I didn't come here to be preached to," he said 
sharply. " Good-evening." 

" Good-night," Wrightam said calmly. " If I can 
be of service sometime, perhaps " 

Harvey turned at the door, and looked back 
curiously. Wrightam was standing under the light, 
the expression on his face unchanged. 

"Are you going to continue with the Lenox com- 
pany.? " Wrightam had gone out of the bank. Har- 
vey knew that. 

"I handed in my resignation to-day. It will be 
public news to-morrow." 

Harvey stepped back into the room. A question 
trembled on his lips as a sudden possibility flashed 
into his mind. 

" Do you suppose .? " the question remained un- 
asked. Harvey still doubted. The miracle was too 
great to be credited. He abruptly turned and went 
away, and Wrightp.m did not know how near Harvey 
had come to making a most astounding proposition 
to the former head of the Lenox mills. 

This proposition that nearly came from the Labor 
leader was an ofi'er to Wrightam to come into the new 




enterprise as its general manager. For all Harvey's as- 
surance, he had at heart a deep misgiving concerning 
the management of affairs. There were scores of men 
out of Lenox mills who could act as foremen or heads 
of departments, but did he have material capable of 
general oversight in the administration of such a huge 
affair." He silently went over the list of possible 
managers, and the enumeration did not reassure him. 

He mentioned his doubts to Stanton. 

"Why don't you ask Wrightam to take charge?" 
Stanton queried. 

" I don't trust him, to tell the truth. I don't really 
believe in what you call his conversion." 

Stanton was angry. 

"What do you want for proof? Are you waiting 
for miracles?" 

"I don't understand him," Harvey replied sullenly. 

"And, of course, you don't believe anything you 
don't understand ! If that was logically your creed, 
Harvey, you could not breathe another second. But 
you will learn, in time, that Wrightam is converted as 
truly as St. Paul was. As to the management, though, 
as I think it over, I don't believe Wrightam would 
take it now. He is going through a crisis in his busi- 
ness relations, and has not yet satisfied himself as to 
his future." 

Stanton was exactly right. In the mind of the 
magnate there was, as yet, an unexplored and un- 
known world before him. He needed time to work it 
out. His heart was at peace. But the problem of liis 



future was not yet revealed to liim In its details. He 
was conscious, as such a man vould be, of possessing 
unusual powers in the way of administration and 
organizing ability. Somewhere in (Jod's great world 
he believed there was an honest place for the exercise 
of those powers to the glory of God's Kingdom on 
the earth, and in the confident belief he now reposed 
in his heavenly Father, he bided his time and went his 
way, facing the loss of his wealth with a quiet forti- 
tude that amazed both friends and enemies. 



i P 

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hi 1 1 



ONE evening, a year after this conversati 
came home and met Eileen in the hall. Shv nd 
daily grown in the grace of affection, and ' he 
brightest part of the day for Wrightam was that 
period when he returrned from the complicated settle- 
ment of his changed business relations to the house 
where his daughter was growing into a place of 
respect, as well as love. 

Mrs. Wrightam had never written again, except 
through her lawyer, to institute divorce proceedings. 
The matter had caused Wrightam crucifixion. Into 
the secret chamber of his communion with his Lord 
he had carried this burden also, and brought the 
assurance of help. Under the State law he could net 
prevent the appeal nor the final decree. There was, 
however, a period of three months remaining before 
the divorce could be obtained. He had noticed in the 
paper that day a theatrical notice of Mrs. Lynde's 
acting in a sensational play. She had taken her old 
name, and, according to the press reports, was win- 
ning ovations everywhere. Wrightam had written her 
to her address in the town where she was last with her 
company, begging her to return home, telling her of 







Kilfun's devotion, ami also giving her iin account of 
his financial losses. He hud closed hi> letter by saying 
to lier: 

" Amy, I am obliged to give up the l)ouse and its 
furnishings, except what is necessary for Eileen and 
myself, and for you, if you will come back. I have 
not time to tell you the reason fc all this, I am at 
j'eace witu God and have a clear conscience. It will 
bi' a cross for Eileen to leave the house. I have not 
yet spoken to her about it, but expfot to do so to-night. 
She has been a true daughter, and I am sure of her 
loyalty. But oh, Amy, my wife, the past will be as if 
it had never been if you will only return, and with 
Eileen and Alfred, who I learn is with you still, start 
a home life with love at the heart of it and a great 
forgiving God to .shed his mercy over us. My prayer, 
as I write this, is that you may come. God help us." 

The writing of this letter was fresh in his mind as 
he let Eileen take his coat and hat. He bent down and 
kissed her, and after chatting a few moments in the 
" den " they went out to supper. 

When the meal was over they went back in* - the 
" den." The faiiilliar room had become the regular 
sitting-room of the house, dear to father and daughter 
on account of its associations. 

" Eileen," Wrightam began, following an old habit 
contracted in his previously crowded business career, 
" what would you think of moving away from 
Lenox .' • ' 


■m ; ^" 5 ' 


jiii'i H 


«r^^^^' ^*^^^^' ^ ^^""^ ''^''^^ «^^en it a thought. 
What do you mean? " 

« What would you say, girl, if your father should 
tell you he must let this house go and move into a far 
less expensive one?" 

The girl's naturaUy unchecked extravagant tastes 
rose up to rebel. 

"You don't mean, father, that you are not 
able " 

He feared, for one bitter moment, that she was 
gouig out of his life as her mother had gone 
But he went on cabnly to tell her the unwelcome 

" Eileen, my fortune is gone. The house that has 
sheltered us is no longer rightly mine. I have a 
piece of unencumbered property in Brandon, with 
a comfortable house, where we can go and malce our 
home. But we shaU have to give this up. Do you 
realize, girl, that your father is no longer a rich man? 
I have talked with you about this matter a little It 
Eiken"^"^"' ^°'' *° "»^«"t*»d it. I am sorry for you, 

She looked at him more thoughtfully. The marks 
of struggle he had made for over a year were plainly 
indicated m his face and figure. But there was no 
mark of defeat. It was all stamped with the victory, 
not the humiliation, of the Cross. But the g-.eatest 
thing Eileen saw to-night was a wistful yearning fo^ 
sympathy and affection. She saw he needed assur- 
ance of her willingness to share with him the new and 



probably strange life no«- awaiting them. She hesi- 
tated only a moment. Next instant her arms were 
around his neck, and she was crying a few natural 
tears of regret at the earthly loss of the things she 
had pnzed; but he knew, as he proudly stroked her 
hair, he was a richer man than he had ever been : Tor 
this which he now possessed was worth more than all 
the money he had ever called his own 

Later i„ the evening, after they had discussed 
freely their plans, Eileen suddenly aske^, "Father 
isn t Brandon the place where Harvey has begun his' 
experiment with the new mill company.? » 

"Yes, the mill has been running for four months 

"Are you thinking of going into that-into the 
business there.?" 

Wrightam smiled, « I have not been asked to take 
a position. Harvey is having all sorts of trouble. 
Mr. Stanton told me to-day that matters were in con- 
fusion. They have a fine plant, and Harvey suc- 
ceeded ,n getting interested over six thousand men 
m his scheme. But as you know, Cummings and 
Fleming have more than held their own here, and it 
looks like a battle between the same old forces, and 
I doubt If Harvey has the administrative and organ- 
izing abihty to win out." 

Wrightam's eyes flashed with the old war spirit of 
the commercial days, when he was the leader in gigan- 
tic efforts to control the market. Perhaps even Then 
he had some vision of what his own Master could do 


'■#■ i l- 













— " 


with his regenerated powers. Surely, they had been 
given him for some great purpose. He brooded over 
the matter, and in the weeks that now followed, while 
busy with the details of his removal to Brandon, he 
was praying for guidance and wisdom from that 
source which he had come to regard as infallible. 

He had been settled in Brandon only a few days, 
and was still without any definite plans for his future, 
when, going out one afternoon with the intention of 
visiting the new mills that stretched along the river, 
their tall chimneys streaming with smoke and the 
shorter one spouting flame, he encountered Arthur 
Harwood, just entering one of the company offices. 

« What ! Arthur ! You here ? " 

" Yes, I'm foreman of the new model-room. T fin- 
ished at Amherst last June, took a summer course in 
mechanical engineering at Waldeck, and then came 
over here and applied for a place." 

He spoke eavnestly, but gravely. Wrightam 
admired the young man's appearance immensely, and 
asked him home to dinner that evening. He came, 
and after the meal the two men spent the evening 
talking over the situation of the Brandon mills. 
Eileen, who was keeping house for her father, and 
blossoming into a most charming housekeeper, was 
an interested listener. Young Harwood defined the 
situation in a sentence. 

" Har>'ey thinks he knows it all. He has wonder- 
ful qualities, but I believe this task is too much for 
him. He has some fine foremen. They understand 



their departments, but can't go outside of them. The 
general management is incffv.ctive. The co-operative 
plan promises all right. The men don't complain 
much. But the whole thing lacks a head. Then, 
besides all this, Harney, with all his executive ability 
and his real desire to bring about the Brotherhood, has 
no use for the religious factor. To my mind, he 
invites defeat by ignoring this great essential. All 
he is after is the loaves and fishes. And I predict 
defeat even in that line, because he leaves out the 
most essential thing of all.'* 

Wrightam nodded vigorous assent. "I believe 
with you, Arthur. What can be done? It would be 
a pity to have all this thing go to the wall.'* 

"I am only a kind of experimenter," Harwood 
answered with a sigh. " I can only be counted a drop 
in the bucket. I have my work to learn. And I 
have absolutely no influence with Harvey in such a 

" The possibilities here are wonderful ! " Wrightam 
muttered. The sight of the great chimneys, the hum 
and whir and stir of the mighty plant, as he caught 
them during his already brief stay in Brandon, had 
affected him strongly. The knowledge of his own 
powers, directed, as they now were, along the way to 
the Kingdom, excited in him such ambitions as he had 
never known. 

Yet he hesitated to go to Harvey with any proposi- 
tion or proffer of counsel, or even an application for a 
position. Somehow, it seemed to him the way was 



It: '' 



going to open for him in God's good time, and when 
it came it would be exactly what he wanted. 

During the evening Eileen played and sang, and 
Harwood sang one selection with her. They had been 
acquainted in tne days before Arthur had gone away 
to college, but had not seen each other much, as they 
had not moved in the same circle of social life. Har- 
wood regarded Eileen with respectful curiosity, having 
heard the story of her devotion to her father. Eileen 
regarded him with interest, knowing something of his 
plan, as he suggested it that evening, to do as his own 
father had done in an attempt to study at first hand 
the conditions of Labor. When Harwood went back 
to his boarding place that night he carried with him 
a pleasant picture of Eileen and her father standing 
together in the hall, heartily inviting him to drop in 
often of an evening. If the young man began to take 
them at their word, and to prize those precious visits 
in the "den" (for the little house in Brandon had its 
" den " also), it is no more than he felt perhaps he had 
a right to after wrestling with the human and machine 
problem in the dusky mills. 

Before all that became a part of this history, how- 
ever, an event occurred that led to the opening of the 
door Wrightam was praying for ; but it came along a 
mysterious track that he had never dreamed, and in a 
way that he would not have chosen. But God's ways 
are not ours, and his dealings with the children of 
men are past finding out. 



IT was less than a week after Harwood had been to 
Wrightam's that evening, that Wrightam, walk- 
ing down by the mills, fascinated and attracted in 
that direction, noticed, staring at him on a high board 
fence across the street, a theatrical poster announcing 
the coming of "Mrs. Elsie Lynde, the great melo- 
dramatic actress," to Brandon, in her famous play, 
" The Last Act." 

He stared at the many-colored poster, which con- 
tained a large picture of his wife, and on his way back 
home hoped that Eileen would not see it. But when 
the papers that week gave large notices of Mrs. 
Lynde's play and sensational accounts of herself, 
Wrightam knew Eileen must have knowledge of her 
mother's coming to Brandon. The girl had not men- 
tioned it to him, but he noted an increase of tenderness 
in her manner towards him. 

Brandon boasted a new theatre building, erected at 
a cost of seventy-five thousand dollars, and catering 
largely to the new mill element. That night of Mrs. 
Lynde's appearance the building was packed to the 

The play was both sensational and questionable. 
The acting was indifferent, ( en bad, from every 
standard, except Mrs. Lynde's. She really possessed 


'! I 




large histrionic power, and knew how to thrill an a, 
ence as much b^ her acting as by her unquestio 
beauty Those who were there that night acknc 
edged the marvelous charm of her presLe. M 

i?s: Civfd" "'IV' "™* "' """ '^«'" '««' •>- 

s v,v.d m .ts horror. She came and went looki a person without a sin or fault. She was I 
wronged and injured one. Her tears fell naTura 
and sympathetically to the accompaniment f, 
orchestra, and Ihe.r realism affected hundreds of . 
ni.ll oi«,rat,ves, many of whom carried f,x>m th 
evenmg-s acting a firm belief that Mrs. Wrrghta 
had been a mc,t abused and ill-treated woman.* 

Into the midst of a climax in the third act, an od 
of burnmg wood startled the member, of t 
orchestra. The leader let his baton fall t^ the flol 
and ran towards the little door under the stage. Bef" 
he reached ,t a wave of white smoke drifted acros" 
foothghts, and the whole theatre, from wings an 
stage entrance, seemed to burst into flame with 
m,rac„lo,. rapidity. Then arose that maddening cr 
of fire. It turned the audience into senseless annual" 

cfok 7 • r J*!" '^' «'"-^ "»i"-y» bee™ 

suffocated ,n the passage, only a few feet from th. open doorways. It was ,„ ;„,„,, „;,/ *^ 

n,ob,.ch^member of it caHng for nothing e.ce^^::: 
with Harwood that evening. They were at the house, 


II an audi- 
e. Many 
id become 
it looking 
^ was the 
it of the 
ds of the 
rom that 

( an odor 
of the 
:he floor, 
• Before 
Jross the 
igs and 
with a 
ing cry 
om the 
J beast 
ept his 



and Harwood had repeated a statement about Har- 
vey 8 real abihty to face a coming crisis for the mill 
management, when Wrightam said. " Hark ! Wasn't 
that the fire-alarm?" 

They went to the window, and the glow of the 

TZ J. . ^" ^°' " ^"S^*'^"' -'^^d, and Har- 
wood nodded. 

When they reached the theatre the police were try- 
mg to hold the people back. Wrightam went at once 
to the chief and said. "My wife is in there." The 
next mmute he was climbing in a window at the rear 
of the building. As he jumped down into the smok- 
ing darkness, he felt Harwood beside him. 

There was not a word exchanged between them, but 
ihey acted deliberately, and as if by spoken concert. 
The theatre was blazing through the stage and the 
back part of the roof. The two men had entered a 
narrow passage leading to the greenroom. It was 
almost the only part of the building which was as 
yet untouched. The firemen were in different parts 
of the theatre and Wrightam could see and hear them 
as they fought the flames or helped rescue the unfor- 

lobby '* '""*^''"*^ *° *^' '"'^'^"^ °^ *^" "PP^^ 
The smoke was so dense that Wrightam got down 
and crawled on hands and knees towards the stage. 
Several bodies were at the foot of the greenroom 
entrance In the awful half-light he tried to find if 
any of these forms was that of his wifo. Suddenly 

33^^ i*msBsi. \-^<r^m 

i! t 




the greenroom door, which opened inward at the top 
of the short flight of stairs, wns burst from its 
hinges, and two men, howling and fighting together, 
struggled through the narrow entrance, treading in 
complete indifference upon the faces and bodies of the 
prostrate ones that choked the passage. At the same 
time, the entire greenroom seemed to explode, with a 
shock, into flame. The smoke rolled up and was 
apparently transformed into billows of fire, and in the 
middle of the room, from which she had risen as if 
suddenly aroused out of some deadly trance, stood 
Mrs. Wrightam, her dress beginning to bum and the 
terror of madness on her face. 

Wrightam leaped up and past the cursing, strug- 
gling {.gures in the doorway, crying, " Amy ! Amy ! " 
She heard him, and ran screaming to him. A blazing 
fragment of timber fell from the ceiling and smote 
her dovn, just at the moment her husband caught 
her. Harwood helped raise the figure, and extin- 
guished the fire on her dress, and then, scorched, 
blinded, gasping, they succeeded in getting her to the 
window and outside. The back wall crashed in as 
they were carrying their burden farther from the 
building to a place of safety. They all sank down 
for a time insensible. Kindl} hands helped them into 
an adjoining house, and Wrightam and Harwood 
were able by morning to care for themselves. 

Wrightam painfully hobbled into the room where 
his wife had been carried. He found a pitiful figure, 
semi-oonscious, disfigured, torturer! with mental and 


physical agonj from which he shrank as if from a 

A week later he knew, with her, the worst. It had 
been possible to move her to his house. The nervous 
shock had resulted in a curious mingling of loathing 
for herself and hatred of God. 

He told her the truth, as she insisted on knowing it. 
She would lose one eye. Her famous beauty was 
destroyed at a blow. The scars left by the burning 
of her hands and arms would disfigure Ker for life 

When she had listened to what she had forced him 
to say she suddenly attempted to tear the bandage 
from her face. He prevented her from accomplish- 
ing her purpose, but not before she had partly suc- 
ceeded, and fainted away under the self-inflicted 
torture After that, cither Mr. Wrigi.tam or Eileen 
was with her day and night. She finally yielded to 
the unexpected horror of her future with a sullen 
despair. For weeks she never spoke. Wrightam 
surrounded her with every mark of affection. She 
watched him with cold and critical aspect, and 
VVrightam grew to think her absolutely heartless. 

At last, one day, after weeks of henrt-breuking for- 
bearing he saw a tear on her rou^^h, scarred cheek. 
It was God s tr ^ the first this proud woman had shed 
'" ITZ' ■ }^ ' ' *^' beginning of the end. That 
night Wnglitam .ould kneel and thank the Father for 
softening her heart. And oh, how his own heart 
leaped up one day yet later on, when she suddenly 
drew his face down, and almost fiercely demanded why 



J J.. 


and how he could care for such a wreck as she had 

"I never loved you more truly than at this 
moment," he said with an honest glow of his trans- 
figured face that she could not doubt. She broke 
down under it all. Love conquered her. There was 
no future for her except in that. Along any other 
track lay madness, darkness, death. Alfred, her boy, 
had left her shortly after the letter Wrightam had 
written. He is not a part of this chronicle. But for 
her now there was nothing left but love, and by God's 
grace she found that harbor, and in its peafce she grew 
content to spend the rest of her days. And that is a 
history by itself that some one, sometime, should write 
for the encouragement of souls who have been smitten 
in like manner. 

But out of this buniing came another opportunity 
for Wrightam. Harvey had nearly lost his life that 
night. Two of his most trusted and capable superin- 
tendents did lose theirs. During all the time Mrs. 
Wrightam was fighting her way towards the liberty 
and sweetness of love, Harvey, who had been caught 
by the panic-smitten crowd on the stairway, was 
slowly recovering, always to bear about with him a 
disabled body. His spirit was fierce and untamed as 
ever. Stanton came over to Brandon and found 
Harvey writhing over the prospect, unreconciled to the 
future, bearing the burden of the mill management 
with a grim stoicism which did not deceive Stanton 
in the least. 






I HE mill is going to the dog.,. Harwood ha. 
been m to tell n.e of thing,. But someho,., 
Ill make it yet." 

Hat'^" tr^ '"' ^''^' " ^ ^*^^ »^d * t^lk with 
Hanrood. Matters are worse than jou supp6«,. The 
whole Uung needs a head. You won't be'a'STto gi 
around for months yet." 

Harvey groaned, but protested, .„d .t l.,t up 

to Stanton's suggestion. ' 

"Here is Wrightan,. Ask him to help you to 

^™.gh en thin^ out. He has wonderful Llity 

The« .„ t another living man who know, how to 

manage this matter like him." 

So Stanton went over and told Wrightam what th. 
«tuat.on was. WrighUm went back ^th him to «. 
Harvey. Harvey g.^eeted him at first stiffly, but be- 

of the plant „d ch«,se his own superintendTu. H. 
WM to have hb.rty in the matter of meeting, with th. 





men and use whatever religious influence he could to 
shape their purposes. Harvey was incredulous. But 
Wrightam insisted, that only on condition that he be 
given a free hand would he undertake the manage- 
ment, and with this clear understanding he began the 
greatest work of his life. 

How well he did that work let Fredrick Stanton 
relate. Another year had slipped by since the theatre 
fire. It was the Christmas week. On Harvey's invi- 
tation, Stanton had gone over to Brandon to be 
present at the profit-sharing meeting. Stanton had 
spent three days with Harvey and Wrightam. On his 
return he told Mildred the story of that year's work. 
« It is almost beyond belief, Mildred. If I had not 
Ken McAndrew's co-operative stores in Raleigh, 
England, I would have said a miracle had been 
wrought. Wrightam has a wonderful hold on the men. 
There is not one of them, Slav, Scandinavian, Irish, 
Hungarian, Italian, who does not swear and pray by 
Wrightam. Every morning the men assemble in the 
big hall over the machine shops, and Wrightam has a 
twenty-minute service into which he packs the love of 
his soul for those men. You should see him. His eyes 
glow, his face is transfigured, his whole being shines 
with the love of Christ. It is a passion with him to 
save those men, not only industrially, but spiritually. 
The men trust him implicitly. His salary has been 
the same as the wages of any man in the shops who is 
working at skived labor. The first year's experiment 
proved the possibiUty of the co-operative plan even 



under a groat handicap of luismanagcment. It can 
be done. The dividends this season were fifteen per 
cent, of the wages. By the ominon arrangement 
agreed upon at the beginning, superintendent, fore- 
man and workmfn share equally in the profits and 
losses. Wrightam does not claim that this is the only 
or best method ; but he does claim, with Harvey, that 
by this method tiie men have been unified and a' spirit 
of Brotherhood has been estabhshed, such as they never 
knew before. 

"But the great thing about Wrightam's manage- 
ment is the religious grip on the whole affair. That 
twenty-minute service every morning puts its stamp 
on the whole thing. I saw tears in men's eyes that 
were worth more than a million dollars a year to them 
and to Wrightam. He is absolutely correct when he 
says that the whole Labor question will never be set- 
tled right until it is settled on the basis of a genuine 
love of man. His remarkable powers of organization 
and leadership, that once made him the dreaded cap- 
tain of industry, are now consecrated to leading 
Labor into the higher and better way of God's service. 
And at the centre of it all beats one of the truest, 
tenderest hearts that God ever regenerated for his 

'•How about Mrs. Wrightam?" asked Mildred. 

" I saw her a few minutes. She is so changed you 
would not know her. People say her beauty is gone. 
In place of it there is something better. I believe she 
is not far from the Kingdom of God. She reverences 



her husband, and is apparently reconciled to her new 
life. She struck me as one who had a profound feel- 
ing of unspeakable relief to be surrounded by a per- 
fect affection." 

"And Eileen?" 

"Eileen is a splendid girl. By the way, Arthur 
Harwood seems to feel perfectly at home there at 
Wrightam's. I ventured to speak to Wrightam about 
him, and he smiled and said he should not discourage a 
co-operative union in that direction. Arthur has capa- 
bilities, and is logically in tin line of succession after 

"And Harvey?" 

"Well, Harvey is broken a great deal He has 
never recovered from the injuries received at the fire. 
Sometimes I think he is not far from the Kingdom, 
either. One morning, while Wrightam was talking, 
Harvey sat on the platform, his great dark eyes fixed 
on Wrightam with a wistful look, as if he envied 
Wrightam the power he possesses over men. When the 
service closed Harvey took up his crutches and hobbled 
down and shook hands with StoUwitz, who is foreman 
in the casting-room now. Stollwite returned his grasp 
heartily, and I heard him pay to Harvey : 

" * Brudder Harvey, ven will you gif your heart to 
the Lord mit von whole surrender, eh? * 

" I did not hear Harvey's reply ; but I knew he was 
deeply affected, for his eyes were glistening as he 
went out." 

Stanton sat silent, looking into th« fire. The Christ- 



ohild spirit ™ abroad in the world. The hapcv 

gleet..n^ of so..e passers-by outside the house reached 

hem.- "Merry Chrisfnas!" and the hurrying feet on 

hand of God, and he had not forgotten it. The tall 
Oumneys at Lenox and Brandon would .11 alike be 

mokeles. .^rrow; for it was Christmas day. Th 
rtnfe would be resumed afterwards, and greed and 
confl,ot, and man against man, and man frhfrnse"? 

wth Its false happmess, and Labor would suffer and 

world of warrmg mterests between the men of money 
.nd the men of muscle, brooded the Brotherhood 
Fr«i^ck stant..n and Mildred, his wife, .at to^ 

on a„rsT ": " ° ""■°" °' ••"'" ''"•"«' farther 

Wnghtam has seen the Christ. The heart of the world 

Z vl 7u ' " "° "'""'■ 'o »" ')"<^>'«<'"» between 
men I,ke that. Nothing is ever settled right untilrt 
..settled by that test. God grant to thf wo Id h' 

aTmuJ^T "'"'""'' " "-''y Chrislma. time." 
And Mildred, hi. wife, whispeT-d, " Amen." 



^'^ -4* 

^ , jS 


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the Ottawa, iimo. Cloth, $1.50. 

0««f""**'* unmUtakable mark of pow«."-Cku,f hler- 

"Th«-e '^^«hj»;»ubtle ^fr^^ humor, quaint ch.raettr draw. 
'"«• . . . Life, warmth, color ir« all hwt. "—flroo*//» £«^;,. 

900th X,000 
The Sky Pilot. A Tale of the Foothills. 
i2nio. Cloth, 1^1.25. 

Dii .''?*JP'' Connor'i 'BIa:k Rock* w j rood, but 'Tht Skv 

.h w'j.a-ft wM'- ''^"'S^'P "^^'ccortlwl'tK 
in* wettam Ufe, which he well understand*. "—T*« Outlotk. 

400th 1,000 

Black Rock. A Tale of the Selkirks. 
i2mo. Cloth, 1 1. 2 5. 

PopuUr Edition to ctmts, Spttial Edition 75 cents. 
.». ^^'!tl P*"^**! wholeaomcnesa, with entire fidelity with 
mieit pathoa, with freaheat humor, he has delineate eh.ra?^er 
has analysed motives and emotloni. and has portraVed "r' ' 

—St. Louis Glob* Democrat. 




t '1 


Egerton R. Youno 


i: :i 

Mr Dogi In the Nortli- 

PrefiiMijr lUaMraicd. 
lime, doth, |i.t5Dct. 
IxpcriMCM with liUme 
m4 ft. Btniu4 det«, 
c«T«riag jrcira of ilcdge 
triTil la tht froseu wild* 
of BrltUh; America. A a 
exciting Mery la which 
the mwcU of dog initlnct, 
IntelUgcac* and atnngth 
pltj the chief part. Mr. 
Yoaag frovct la a mo«t 
entertaining and inatruc* 
tiva way that each dog, 
Jatt a* mnch u a penon, 
kaa hk own tadlrldual 
character, and mut be 
4a«lt with aecordJngtjr. 
Terrible pcrtla, wonderful 
cecapca and ledden emei- 
gcndea mix with the moat 
comical (Itaartoni. 

Oq the ladUn Trail. 

S t e r I e • of Mimlonary 
Ixpertencea among the 
Cice and the Saali«ttix 
ladiane. Storiea of Mi*. 
*ioa. Iimo, doth, li.oo. 

"He bat a haff/ and 

•ftea amaalnglf qaalnt 
war of detcriMng the In- 
ddeat* and kirrsaadingt 
of frontier Ufe. Hi* cheer, 
ful, almott merry, temper, 
while reconnilng the de. 
tIcci reiortcd to in cadur. 
Ing or maaleringprivationa 
and dangenareitimalatlng 
and InttPicrire."— Tht 

Tfae Apottle of (he 
North, Jama Evaiu. 

With twenty iUoatraUona 
by J. E. Laughiln. luno, 

"A freth theme Ii pre. 
tented here— the life of a 
mlMlonary in Upper Can. 
ada, and the northward 
regioat at far at Athabatca 
Lake and e»ea beyond. 
Yonng people, uiually not 
attracted to mlulonary 
eiteratnre, will be inter, 
ctted in the book. It it 
well illiMtrttcd."— nt 





•' •n4 
the la- 
Itt it. 


I pre- 

e efa 



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